


The Most Precious Gem (I'll Keep You Safe)

by LaLunaWritesStuff



Series: Moments of Spideypool [34]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spideypool fandom
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Conspiracy, Fluff and Smut, Love, M/M, Misunderstandings, beginning relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 10:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaLunaWritesStuff/pseuds/LaLunaWritesStuff
Summary: “Adversity is the diamond dust Heaven polishes its jewels with” – Thomas Carlyle





	The Most Precious Gem (I'll Keep You Safe)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!  
> I know it's been a thousand years, but I'm finally back :D Hope you like my contribution to this year's Spideypool Prompt Bang, have fun reading <3
> 
> ***
> 
> Prompt:
> 
> the colors of jewels  
> suffering – ecstasy – absolute silence  
> nights on park benches, days in bed  
> a little sentence

“I’m telling ya, he coulda done better,” Deadpool said, trying to land on the roof as gracefully as Spidey but falling on his ass instead.   
“You think I would’ve caught him in time if he’d done better?” Spiderman asked, helping Deadpool up with a chuckle. 

The two of them had been working together for weeks now, after a short team-up had somehow never ended.   
“You would’ve caught him anyway, Sweetie,” Deadpool praised easily, taking off his mask to shake some dirt off the fabric. Spiderman did the same, since both of them had fallen into a construction site at some point of the night, and were covered in dust and sand.   
“Don’t call me that,” Peter argued half-heartedly, aware that he there was probably a very obvious blush on his cheeks. Neither had acknowledged it yet but over the past couple of weeks there was definitely more between them than just friendship, more than bromance, too. But that didn't keep them from the occasional flirt, though.

“Sorry,” Wade giggled, obviously not at all sorry about it. He took off his gloves as well, patting them against each other to get some of the dirt off. “You in for a late-night-snack?”  
“Always. Asian?”  
“Oh my god, yes. Let’s get fried rice, I know a really good new place.”  
“Awesome.”  
They tried to clean up a little more, but there wasn’t much use to it. After watching how the local police forced the bank robber they caught into the back of their car, they got going towards Peter’s place. Peter’s only been at Wade’s apartment one time, and immediately understood why the other preferred staying over at Peter’s flat. Not only did Wade live in one of the most run-down blocks of the city, but his apartment was a loud, smelly mess that he admitted to only using as a space to store his weapons and nap between jobs. 

Peter on the other hand had saved up to rent a small, creaky apartment close to his aunt May. This way, he could be Spiderman and come home in the early morning hours, sleep a bit and then start his university courses he just enrolled in a few weeks prior.   
It wasn’t the fanciest NYC loft, but it would make do. 

“Put your suit in the washing machine, it’ll be dry before we head out,” Peter offered when they climbed up the fire escape stairs to his window. While Peter made no sound climbing up the rails with just one hand – the other holding their food – Wade’s heavy footsteps made the whole construction vibrate.   
“You just wanna see my naked ass, don’tcha?”  
“Sure, I love watching the moon.”  
Wade bellowed out a laugh and shoved Peter’s window up so they could both climb into his small bedroom/living room. Peter went to the bathroom right away, tugging off his suit as he went.   
Of course Wade stared at his back for as long as he could.  
He'd found out that he was one of the few people who didn't trigger Peter's spider-sense, and was quite proud of himself for it.   
At least that was Wade's best guess since the younger never commented on him staring, most likely totally oblivious. God, hopefully oblivious.

Wade entertained the thought that maybe Peter was aware of him staring, just for a moment, before he passed the hypothetical interest off as a daydream.   
“Petey, is it still called a daydream when it's still night? Or does it could as a daydream as soon as it's the a.m.?” Wade called over to the bathroom, listening to Peter's easy, quiet laugh.   
“I think as soon as it's daytime, as in when the sun is up, it's a daydream. What are you daydreaming about?”

[Whoop, there it is.]  
(He's too smart not to notice your huge boner for him.)   
Wade shushed the voices in his head that seemed to get more and more mocking the longer he pined for the younger man.   
“Nothing, was just wondering,” he lied instead, busying himself with shimmying out of his suit quickly. 

There were some clothes on a drying rack dangling from the ceiling, and Wade pulled one of his shirts and a pair of pants from it. When he was dressed he took the rest of the dry clothes down and wordlessly handed Peter a shirt when the younger came out of the bathroom wearing only his briefs.   
Since Wade was too busy shaking off the spiderwebs that had held the clothes in place, he didn’t notice that Peter watched him for a few moments too long.   
“Thanks for, like, always doing my laundry, by the way.”  
“It's the least I can do when we're always getting the nasty villains because of me,” Peter replied with a grin, wiggling into his shirt. 

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I swear that rotting smell haunted my dreams.”  
Wade shuddered when he thought back to one of their bigger fights only a few days ago. Some idiot had somehow managed conjure an ancient evil spirit, conveniently enough it’d been next to a waste disposal site handling meat and fish, which the spirit attached to, turning into the most disgusting slug monster.   
Team Spideypool – as Wade affectionately called them behind Peter's back – never got the actual culprit, but eventually fought off the spirit with the help of a very hasty, very loud call to a certain Dr. Strange that Peter placed mid-fight. 

It was a good thing the food smelled good enough to distract Wade from the memory.  
(And it’s not like we haven’t had worse things to actually eat.)  
[Oh god, remember that Tuna Taco at the Mexican border? I thought we’d die for sure.]  
(Judging by the condition of the toilets at the interstate, someone did.)  
Wade shook off the slimey memories his voices brought up, concentrating on collecting their bags of take-out food so they could head up to the roof.

Months ago they’d first shared a kebab on top of one of the skyscrapers after their first official battle together – aside from the spontaneous team ups of the past. Ever since then it’d become a habit that they had dinner after their nights out defending the town, which in their case always meant a hearty snack in the early morning hours. 

They climbed the fire escape all the way up and made their way over the gravel to the top of the old, now out of order elevator. The big concrete block stuck out from the roof, and worked as their dinner table whenever they were at Peter’s place and the weather was good enough to enjoy a meal outdoors. 

Peter busied himself with moving their take-out boxes out of the way so Wade could sit down next to him. A grin slowly spread over his features when he watched Wade carefully lower himself down, hesitating before he copied Peter's position with both legs dangling from the edge.   
“Are you actually afraid of falling?”  
“Well, I can't die but it's one hell of a drop,” Wade grumbled earning himself a fond laugh from Peter, who shot a web at his back to connect him with the roof.   
“There you go. Fall-proof late night snacking. I wouldn't let you fall anyway.”  
“You wouldn't?”  
Peter had to lower his gaze, because of Wade's unexpectedly sincere tone and those fascinating golden eyes lingering on his.   
“Not anymore. We've got more important things to do than waiting for you to regrow like every bone in your body.”  
“It'd take a while,” Wade agreed easily, a shy smile on his lips. Peter noticed how he hesitated before digging into the food, his hand subconsciously reaching behind himself to the side of his belt where he'd always tuck his mask in if he ever took it off briefly.   
Peter never commented on it, because he knew it was a tough topic for Wade to even approach, the older man terribly self-conscious about his skin. Every time Peter watched him become uncomfortable, he just wanted to tell him that there was nothing to worry about.   
Of course Peter also saw the scars and bumps his healing factor caused, but to him, it was just a minor part the overall picture he had of Wade.   
Wade, not Deadpool.   
The man under the mask he'd gotten to know, the one who could crack amazing jokes, reference the oddest things out of the blue and somehow make Peter's world a lot more enjoyable. 

Eventually Wade picked up the plastic fork and began eating, Peter smiling into his food. 

“You gotta try this one!” Wade said, holding his chopsticks out for Peter, surprising him mid-bite. The younger leaned in and took a bite of the spring roll. He nodded and gave a thumbs-up since he didn’t want to speak with his mouth full. 

They ate in relative silence, only interrupted once in a while by Wade’s remarks that Peter didn’t mind at all. In the beginning of their little team up he’d been annoyed by the other’s constant urge to chat and throw quips and comments, but by now Peter had gotten used to it and often found himself with a too quiet apartment when it was time for him to get some sleep.   
His very much unhelpful mind used this particular moment to remind him that there was a way to keep his nights loud as well, but Peter quickly pushed the thought away, his stomach swooping with nerves. 

While they ate Wade would glance over to Peter every now and then, expecting him to stare or show some signs of being grossed out by Wade showing his bare face. But there was really nothing, never really was with Peter, but Wade had never been one to let his guard down.   
Strangely enough, he suddenly realized exactly how much he'd done just that with Peter.   
Over the past couple of weeks he'd gotten increasingly more comfortable around Peter, trusting him not only to keep him safe from smashing to the ground, but also to not hurt him with remarks about his appearance.   
Before meeting Peter, he would've never let anybody wash his clothes, or share a meal out in the open, too disgusted by himself to be in anybody's company.   
But with Peter it was easy, comfortable, and every so often Wade would even forget about his worries when Peter smiled at him. 

“Hey.”  
“Hm?” Peter hummed, having just finished his meal and now being very much okay with doing nothing for just a little while longer. He mused that it must've been weeks since he felt so at ease with himself and the world. All the stress of balancing his private life, studies and being a hero seemed to weigh a lot less on his shoulders whenever he spent time with Wade. 

“I just … wanted to say thanks. For putting up with me for so long.”  
“Don’t say that,” the younger immediately replied and for a moment Wade thought Peter was referring to the feelings clearly packed into every word. “I’m not putting up with you. We’re working together because we like it. Right?”  
“Definitely.” Wade somehow managed to say around the lump in his throat.  
“So then I’m not putting up with you.”

 

“So, Petey, any plans for today?” Wade changed the topic after a short silence, when he had absolutely no idea what to reply to that – and barely kept from throwing himself into Peter’s arms at any given time of the day anyway. 

The younger was distracted by the sound of Wade's voice – low but with unmistakable affection – addressing him like this. By now he had countless endearing nicknames for the younger, who at some point stopped complaining about them.   
“Nothing much. Catch some sleep before courses start.”  
“Call aunty May. The voice message light was on,” Wade said, once again showing his immaculate observation skills. He hadn't even been to the kitchen where Peter's landline phone was perched on the counter, and still noticed the tiny red light on it even while talking to Peter.   
“I will, don't worry.”  
Peter smiled, nodding as he leaned back, resting his weight on his hands. He hadn't been this relaxed in a long time, even though he had more work than ever. 

“Wade, look down.”  
“You want me to get sick or something? I swear I'm not afraid of heights,” Wade grumbled, swinging his feet back and forth impatiently. Peter knew he wasn’t one to sit still for long, but it would only take a few minutes for him to see, so Peter let him fuss and complain.   
“Look.”  
“For what?!”  
“Look.”

Wade huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest like a sulking child, clearly unhappy with the boring task.   
“What if the world, like, exploded behind us right now?”  
“Wouldn't we hear that?” Peter giggled, not moving an inch and keeping his eyes trained on the skyline in front of them. Their banter seemed to distract Wade from his boredom, so Peter figured it’d be best to keep him going.  
“But what if a supervillain has the other half of the city inside a force field. Nobody hears you scream in a force field.”  
“A great title for space porn.”  
“I know, right? Did I tell you I once submitted porn titles for an online competition? Won the whole season on DVD.”  
“Do I wanna know how many instalments there were?”  
“Twelve. An epic saga. Such a catchy plot.”  
“I bet.”

After letting some of his overflowing energy out, Wade calmed down enough to look first into the distance, then down towards the city laid out before them.

They managed to catch the last minutes of night time spreading it's jet black blanket over the skies, the first hint of sunlight peeking through on the very far horizon low in between the buildings.   
The skyscrapers, solid blocks rising up into the air, wore bright beacons on the uppermost floors, outlining their sheer size like massive diamonds fitted on scepters.  
Every now and then a light in a window would flicker on, then back off.   
There were cars passing by the colorfully lit shops and over the bridges, little amber marbles moving along the coastline back and forth, crossing each other’s paths or turning to vanish behind a building as if a flashlight was turned off.   
It made the city sparkle, the lights ranging from the bright white of office buildings, to the softer, warm, champagne colored gems that made up apartments, the ruby red flicker on the very top of the skyscrapers and the strings of lights adorning the bridges, precious bands holding onto the city.   
The massive black outlines of buildings and billboards seemed like velvet sheets holding colourful jewels, each one shining on their own, but creating a breath-taking visual together.

After a few minutes, the early morning became more and more apparent, the sky first turning a shy bluish-grey, the color brightening quickly until the sun tinted it a rich sapphire blue, then slowly turning violet. An amethyst hue made way for the warm amber glow of the sun, rising up behind the buildings, casting wavering reflections sparkling on the water of the harbor.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?”  
Wade nodded, but his eyes were no longer on the skyline. He’d been watching Peter’s profile for most of the time, amazed by the glow of the city softening his jaw and nose, made him look young and innocent while there was still this fire in his eyes that Wade craved to see every day, now only enhanced by the reflections of the city lights.

“You’re missing the view,” Peter commented eventually and grinned when he saw Wade’s head whip back around.   
“I’m not,” he shot back, and even though he sounded bashful there was no misunderstanding about how exactly he meant this. 

There was a smile on his face that he couldn’t shake off, and he knew Wade was staring at him. Peter didn’t mind.

Neither of them was ready to acknowledge anything, but both were perfectly happy with letting whatever was between them linger as they watched the early morning settle over the city, the first windows around them lighting up when the early birds and shift workers got up.

Wade wanted to say something, so much actually, but didn’t utter one word until Peter sat up to stretch. Not wanting to let the delicate atmosphere between them become awkward all of a sudden, Wade got up as well, careful not to look down and stepping away from the edge quickly. 

“Alright, Imma get going. You gotta get your beauty sleep on. Same time, same place tomorrow?” Wade asked, helping Peter to collect their trash.   
“Exact same place, up here. Meet me at nine, please?”  
“That's oddly specific, are you sure you're not a serial killer after all cause it sounds like you gonna sacrifice my ass to your satanic overlord.”  
“Would that make you the perfect victim or the worst, since you can't die?”  
“I thought I'd always be the best for you,” Wade blurted out before he could stop himself.   
Peter huffed out a quiet laugh and looked back towards the city, granting Wade a moment to collect himself and shush the voices in his brain hooting and telling him to get it on already.   
He thought he heard Peter say “maybe” but the wind had picked up a lot, so Wade couldn't be sure.   
Still, it didn't help his racing pulse one bit. He turned and hurried over to the stairs on the outside of the building, wishing he wouldn't be too chicken to just jump to get out of the situation.   
But he really didn't want to spend the night regenerating all the way from a splat on the concrete back to a semi-human being. 

“Don't be late!” Peter called after him when he set the first foot onto the rattling metal steps.   
“Why? Something special going on?” Wade pressed, carefully making his way down the first few steps. The very top of the structure was in particularly bad shape, most of the steps rusted and uneven.  
“Duty calling, just be on time!”  
“Right, New York needs its heroes.”  
Wade looked up and found Peter way too close to him, leaning over the edge of the roof. His chin rested on his lower arm and the other was stretched out to hold, as Wade belatedly realized, a string of webbing that kept the older from falling over backwards.   
This side of the building was hit by the rising sun already, casting the first few golden highlights on Peter's face only to make him look even better than usual. 

(That’s, like, super-.gay.)  
[And sappy! Are we gonna get our period now, too?]

Wade groaned and hurried down the creaking stairs, ignoring the amused but questioning look Peter shot him. ‘

“Can’t you two ever shut the fuck up?” he sighed when he was far enough down the street to be sure that Peter couldn’t hear him. It didn’t matter what anybody else thought, but Wade tried his best to not let Peter see how crazy he really was.  
[Are you gonna cry now?)  
[Aww, I bet you’re all sensitive, that’s totally understandable.]  
(You’re body is going through a lot of changes right now.)  
[You’ll grow boobs soon and look at boys a lot more, you know.]  
(Oh, he’s already doing that.)  
[Sniff! They grow up so fast!]

“Shut uuup!” Wade groaned 

[”Don’t talk to us like that, young lady!”]  
(”Listen to your mother!”)  
[”Wait, why am I the Mom?”] 

Wade rolled his eyes and wished he could just take his brain out for the night and enjoy the silence for a while. It would be a very long night, he realized, as the voices in his head went into a heated debate over whether or not one of them was more female than the other.  
When he reached the run down ten-story building he and lots of illegal immigrants squatted in, they were still arguing, resulting in Wade slowly developing a raging headache. He slammed the door shut behind himself, some of the old paint chipping off in the process, and headed straight to his bedroom, flopping down on the old mattress propped up on wooden pallets. 

 

“Yes, of course I remember Saturday,” Peter said softly into the phone, gathering up stray coffee mugs and plates scattered all throughout the apartment. He collected them on a pile in his tiny kitchen.  
 _“I'll make blueberry pancakes for you, and you bet Cecilia gave me some of her famous peanut butter cookies because I told her you'd come visit.”_  
As he went and got the laundry basked from on top of his dresser, Peter couldn't help the adoring smile spreading on his face as he listened to his aunt. They missed each other dearly ever since Peter moved out into his own apartment, so they talked almost every day. Still, Peter felt like this was the best solution.  
Nobody had ever followed Spiderman home, but it just wasn't safe to crawl back into the suburbs every morning, only to hide his identity from aunt May and trying to balance all this with school.   
And Peter did want to study, even though it wasn't easy. It was better now, handling just studies, his part-time job and being Spiderman. Even more so ever since Wade had offered to help him out, stepping in for him completely whenever Peter had an important test the next morning and needed to either sleep or study. 

“Okay – yeah, I'll call you after the test tomorrow. Love you, sleep well,” Peter said, hanging up and tossing his phone to the bed so he could at least collect the trash before falling into bed. As he busied himself with at least trying to get his chores done, Peter found one of Wade's gloves in front of his bathroom door, probably fallen from his costume.   
He smiled, examining the glove but finding that it was clean enough to sit on the counter and wait for Wade to come collect it tomorrow. 

It was a little scary, but even more interesting, how fast Peter's grown accustomed to Wade's presence. No, more than that, he actually liked being around the Merc.   
Of course he could understand other people’s reservations for being around Deadpool, but the more Peter got to know the person behind the mask, the more he liked him. To the point that now he found himself already looking forward to the next day. 

His laptop beeped with new messages and Peter strolled over to check it, a cup of fresh tea in hand. - He had promised aunt May to watch his diet and tried hard to cut out the excessive amounts of coffee that kept him alive. 

Day and night Peter ran a programme that he wrote himself on his computer, to scan the internet for any kind of mention of Spiderman. There were the usual blurry photographs of him that people took, some of them from rather unflattering angles and some of them with just a red blob because he’d gone past the camera too quickly.   
Peter always kept tabs of the online community’s interests, because he was number one on a Reddit list where people from all over the world worked on unmasking superheroes, trying to find out their secret identities. 

One picture in particular caught Peter’s interest.  
Someone had managed to take a photo of him and Wade sitting on the ledge of a roof, seemingly talking. Their masks were still on, thankfully, but Peter still activated a different programme to hack into the post and delete it completely. To all the subscribers of this feed it would look like the person had violated the site’s guidelines and caused the picture to be taken down.   
He didn’t like interfering like that, but he also had to think of his and Wade’s privacy. Ever since he went on patrols with Peter, Wade's been on so many more pictures than usual – he did have a small, dedicated fanbase before – and Peter always worried about the Merc's low self-esteem being negatively affected by people disregarding his limits.   
Peter never told him, but Wade was the main reason he'd overhauled his entire programme to scan the web for their pictures.

After sitting down still nursing his very responsible cup of tea, Peter let the search engine run again, this time producing only pictures of Spiderman. He let it be, left his fans to their ways and opened up the latest files for his due assignments, hoping to get the outlines for them done before sleep finally forced him to bed for a few hours. 

 

They met up right on time the following evening and went right to work listening in on the police radio frequencies. Of course there was their usual clientele of robbers and shoplifters, the occasional drunk person trying to pick a fight with either the police or a lamp post, whichever one they were closest to.   
“Thanks, guys!” Spidey called to the cops when they handcuffed the last one for the night, both men in uniform waving to him happily.   
Wade was already waiting in a dim corner because he didn’t like interacting with the authorities. As far as Peter had learned, it was mutual distrust and dislike with them, but they would have to get along when his week full of tests at University rolled around.   
“Packing up?” Wade asked behind his mask, checking the ammo in his guns out of habit. He hadn't shot a single bullet that night, but it calmed him to know he could. All hints from Peter to use non-lethal ammunition had been futile, and Peter realized that it might have been to early to ask Wade to give up his guns.   
“Yeah, one more round on the way home,” Peter decided, stretching out his arms. By now his muscles were burning up pleasantly, just enough to make him feel it, but his usual sleep deprivation caught up slowly.  
“Time for one little Spider to go to bed. By the way, you never answered me when I asked you if you slept on the ceiling,” Wade babbled away as he jumped onto Peter's back. The younger shot a web up to the top of the nearest skyscraper and pulled both of them up.  
“Because I have a bed! You've seen it.”  
“Yeah, but, like, do I know that you use it? It might be a ruse. You could just have a big ol' spiderweb in the corner of the room and sleep in there. - Have you ever slept in one?”  
“Of course.”  
“In your house?”  
“No.”  
“In anyone's house?”  
“No. Only outside. I am still human, you know.”  
“But how cool would that be tho, you could literally sleep anywhere!”  
“I still have a bed!”  
“We should go camping sometime!”  
Peter laughed, their playful banter keeping him awake and admittedly happy as he pulled them from web to web in a safer pace. About halfway he decided to take a break and stretch again, beginning to get sore, so they landed on a construction site overlooking the city blocks around.   
Half a year ago there'd been a rather mysterious explosion decimating the three surrounding buildings, so the city currently rebuild the area. The cause of the explosion was never even found, all investigations leading to the same conclusions: the structure had just randomly crumbled apart.

“How 'bout we stop at Ihop for some breakfast? I could use about twenty pancakes right now. Do you think you could get us a superhero discount?”  
Peter hummed instead of an answer, pondering whether or not he was up for it or if sleep would soon get the better of him. When he was about to answer Wade that he really needed some sleep, his head whipped around to an empty space in one of the other construction sites. 

“Wait, hold up,” Peter said, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Wade seemed to know his tells by now, because there must've been something about his body language any time he listened to his Spidey-sense that tipped the other off. They both moved to the edge of the structure, carefully walking on the blank concrete slabs. 

Peter slid down onto one of the steel beams, moving forward upside down along the underside to get around a railing.   
“Ugh, I got the fattest kink for that.”  
“Focus,” Peter hissed, crawling on to the very edge of the beam where he had the best view.   
“Sorry.”  
The structure vibrated faintly when Wade climbed up as well, hooking one leg over a beam and watching the construction site through the scope of a rifle. 

As if on cue a black limo appeared, the tires slowly rolling over the gravel as the car backed up.   
“That's an awfully fancy car for that kinda place ...” Wade muttered, both of them ducking into the shadows quietly when someone got out of the passenger's seat in the front. It was apparently a man, dressed in a dark suit and very obviously armed because they could see straps of a gun holster running across his chest.   
“What are they doing there?” Peter hissed, beckoning Wade over to climb onto his back. As quiet as he could Peter jumped over to the next structure, Wade sliding off of him instantly to duck behind a column.  
“Looks like some kind of deal, someone's coming,” Wade muttered back, his scope trained on a small alley to their right. A pair came walking toward the car from there, seemingly a tall man and a very small woman or even child. The smaller person walked very slowly, stumbling ever so often and when they were about to fall, the man just dragged them on.   
“Okay, that's enough to know. Let's intervene.”  
“Oh boy, how I've been waiting for those words. Let's fuck 'em up, babe.”  
“Focus,” Peter reminded Wade again, before shooting a web at his back to lower him down toward the ground. “Ready?” Peter asked and Wade gave him a thumbs up.   
“I was born re-aaah!”   
Instead of going for a safe or even somewhat cool landing, Wade's left foot got caught on the shovel of an excavator and he summersaulted mid-air only to land flat on his face. Peter groaned under his mask, bidding their stealthy entrance goodbye and jumped down next to him.   
“Shit!”   
Peter's head whipped around and he saw the man running at top speed, the now unconscious girl thrown over his shoulder. He was fast for a human, but Peter was sure to get him. 

“Hands up, get on the ground!” Wade yelled, but of course nobody listened to him, as always. Instead, the driver jumped out of the car and pulled out his gun. Peter covered it in webs before he could fire, ripping it out of the man's hand and throwing it over a nearby fence. As soon as the driver was disarmed, Peter covered him in webs, rendering him immobile while Wade and the other guy shot at each other with all they had.   
“Have you got this?!” Peter yelled over the gunfire, and just about dodged a bullet.   
“Sure thing, go!”

So Peter webbed himself as high up as he could, despite all his senses telling him to go back to Wade. Something was up with the car, but he wanted to try and get a hold of the girl first. Unfortunately they were nowhere to be seen, so Peter could only assume there were more people involved that got them out by car.   
Down below on the construction site Peter saw how the passenger reached into the car and a glint visible through the window told him he was going for another gun, maybe an automatic.   
Peter let himself drop down then, webbing the man's arm to the car door before landing with a kick to his sternum, knocking him out cold and propelling him into a stack of metal rods nearby.   
“Ooouh, solid 10.5 on execution, and a bonus .5 for dat ass in sexy spandex,” Wade commented, holding up a card with an 11 crayoned on it.   
“Thank you, I trained all my life for this moment. Did I make the gold medal, mother?” Peter shot back in a fake russian accent while he brushed off his costume.   
“You'll always win gold for me, baby.”  
Peter grinned, wrapping the unconscious man up in his webs and checking his pulse. He was fine, so Peter set him down by the next street lamp.

 

Out of habit Wade let his eyes wander over the surroundings, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Other than the car still sitting in the middle of a construction site. Wade squinted at the rear window, eventually sure that he saw movement still.

“There’s someone in the back. Left seat,” Wade murmured, barely loud enough for Peter to pick up.   
“Get him out of there, the police is gonna be here any minute,” Peter replied, securing the men to the ground with his webs. 

Wade had a bad feeling about whoever was sitting in the back of the van, mostly because the guy made no move to escape. It was almost like he knew who Wade was, no doubt that he was watching the Merc approach in the rear view mirror.   
“Get out the car!” Wade yelled, both guns up and ready to shoot. No response from the passenger, he didn’t even move.   
“Get the fuck out or I’ll come to get you, shit stain!”

Wade saw how Peter jumped up in his peripheral vision, lowering himself down from a web right above the car so that the man inside wouldn’t possibly see him. He waved his hand a little to signal Wade that he was ready to go, and the older clicked a bullet into the chamber of his right gun.   
“Last call, Waldo, move it!” 

Finally the door opened, so slow that both Peter and Wade were ready to attack as soon as something resembling a weapon came into view. But instead, all they saw was a chubby, small man sliding off the seat and pushing himself up with a small groan.  
He took two steps away from the door of the car, hands open by his sides. Clearly he didn't want to raise his hands, and Wade suspected him to be rather rich and powerful if he still kept his pride in that kind of situation.  
“On the ground, fuck-o, and make it quick,” Wade growled, fed up with the suspense. In front of him, Peter lowered himself onto the roof of the car and pushed the sun roof up with one hand, peeking into the vehicle.   
“Clear,” he said quietly, and it was only then that the guy between them moved. 

 

He looked directly at Wade, right into his eyes. And then it clicked. 

It's been months ago, maybe close to a year, that Wade had one of his very few jobs go sideways, ending in him missing the mark – the man he was paid to kill.   
He still got half of the agreed amount by killing all of his henchmen, but it was still a big loss. Not only in money, but also because of the reason the man should have died.   
Wade's contractor was the father of the child he'd raped. This disgusting piece of shit was a child molester and it seemed like this wasn't the first incident of that kind.

And now that lowlife had the audacity to stand there, and smirk at Wade as if he was so sure to get out of this alive. 

Wade didn't hesitate.

“Have fun sucking dick in hell, Perry.”

In the blink of an eye he lifted his right hand with his favourite semi-automatic, landing one clean shot right in the middle of his forehead. 

 

“No! What did you do?!” Peter yelled, jumping down onto the ground. He stared at the dead body in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at Wade as the older reloaded his gun.   
“What I had to,” was all he had to say, but Peter just sighed and rubbed both hands over his face.   
“I – I can't believe ...”  
“Sweetie, he's the worst of the worst. Trust me on this, just once.”  
Peter looked like he wanted to argue, but flinched when he heard the police sirens. His shoulders rose and sank quickly for a few seconds and Wade feared he'd pass out.   
“Get out of here, now. Collect your webs. Hurry,” Wade hissed and Peter's eyes went comically wide as he understood.   
The sirens got closer and closer but thankfully Peter jumped up then, the webs he'd used to dangle from a street light wrapped around his wrist. He was gone with just two more jumps, vanishing out of sight.   
Wade hated himself for that, knew he would have to work this out with Peter if he didn't want to lose him. But right now, they had to think of the bigger picture and protect at least Peter's reputation.   
The two of them couldn't ever explain what happened, so they had to book it. 

Wade ran over and grabbed the one still out cold. He shoved him into the passenger's seat of the car, leaving the door open and the body reclined in the seat before stabbing him in the throat. The second one screamed and struggled, but wasn't able to get out of Peter's webs before Wade got to him.   
Wade grabbed him by the lapels of his cheap suit and made him stand next to the car, then shot him right in the chest and let him stumble back to fall to the ground. Just in time Wade ripped the webs off him as well and opened the driver's door, remembering to turn the car back on to make it seem like the driver left in a hurry.

 

Just as the blue police lights flickered around the corner, Wade made his exit and ran faster than he’d had in years. Usually he didn’t mind going head-on with the police, because it would only result in them dying.   
But that wasn’t about only him anymore. 

Peter’s huge, scared eyes still haunted him and made a knot form in his stomach that grew and grew on the way home. 

When he made it to Peter’s place avoiding public transport as usual, Wade stared up the wall and spotted a faint light coming from Peter's bedroom. He took this for as much of an invite as he was going to get, so Wade jumped up and climbed up the fire escape towards the window, fear and regret heavy in his chest, turning his blood ice cold.   
The window was closed, but Wade found it unlocked as he tried to push it open. Usually the old frame creaking open was a welcoming sound, but now it just croaked overly loud in the quiet, dimly lit room.  
Wade climbed inside without a word, closing the window again.

Peter had already taken off his suit and changed into track pants and a shirt with his university logo boldly printed on it. Every time Wade saw him without his suit seemed like the very first time, because he was still amazed by his beauty. Now, however, the look that he met Wade with made his eyes dark and gloomy. 

“Okay, lemme explain-”  
“I don't want an explanation.”  
“But you're gonna get one!” Wade blurted out, against all better judgement. He never went against Peter's word, mainly because they both knew Peter was the smarter and the better one of them. And because he didn't have the confidence to stand against someone like that, but Wade hoped Peter didn't know that.  
Peter looked up, brows drawn together and his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly disapproving. He was a scary guy when he was angry, even more so with him being one of the few people that Wade wouldn’t punch back. Not just because he was so fast that he could probably fuck Wade up in ten different ways before the other even thought about landing a hit, but also because Wade really, really liked him embarrassingly much.  
“Listen. One minute. Just listen,” Wade heard himself beg, and if this was anybody else he would’ve hated himself for it. Instead of an answer, Peter just shrugged his shoulders, like he didn’t care whether or not Wade spoke.   
Wade could only hope that this wasn’t the case. 

“The guy, I think his name is – was – Perrault, and I’ve been hired to kill him about a year ago. Tried to land several hits on him and every single time this fucker got away. A man hired me because this Perrault guy raped his ten year old daughter and her friend. And when I did some research on him it wasn’t the first case against him. He was big time into blackmailing to get money from small business owners, and whenever someone couldn’t pay – which was often, I guess, since his demands were hilariously high – he would graciously accept a kid instead of payment. If the people didn’t agree, Perrault would kidnap their child or children and, well … do his thing. – Petey, I’ve tried so hard to kill him for so long, I even gave the parents their money back when I couldn’t get him. Perrault was one of the dirtiest, most disgusting people I ever heard of.”  
Wade was out of breath when he was done, sure that he’d never spoken this many coherent sentences in a long time. Peter looked up, his lithe frame curled up into a ball at the foot of his bed.   
When he didn’t say something, Wade felt uneasy and immediately started stammering on, hoping that the younger wouldn’t just beat him up in a minute or two.

“Look, I'm so sorry that you had to see this, I really am. Please, believe me.”  
Peter held his gaze for a long moment, then he nodded. Finally, finally he moved, almost jumping up.   
“I didn’t want to drag you into this, but I had to make my shot when I could. He’s been to court like eleven times and every time he bought himself outta there. He was in prison once and nothing changed! Who knows where he was headed, maybe to another one of his sick little parties. He'd have been back to business within hours! - I know I promised you not to kill, but-”  
For just a second Wade thought Peter would hit him, but the other actually wrapped him up in a tight hug.   
“It’s okay,” he said after a long minute, and Wade dared to lift his arms and return the hug, both of them just holding on.   
“It’s not, though.”  
“It’s not,” Peter agreed, voice softer now, and shook his head. None of this would ever be okay for him, none of all the killing that Wade did like other people filed documents or waited tables. That was his job, the only thing he knew how to do, but it would never be okay for Peter.   
He tolerated it, and Wade loved him for this, because he knew that it was asking for a lot.  
“I'm so sorry, I …”  
“You've kept your promise until now.”  
“Five months,” Wade agreed, and only now realized just how long the two of them had worked together. The first semester of studying was almost over for Peter, and so would their team-up be. All this time ago, Wade had promised Peter to help him out while he did the right thing and used his smart brain to study science like he always wanted to. In turn, he would allow Wade to try and finally be good, do the right thing as well, and at least try to stop killing.   
Well, so much for that.  
“I failed, didn't I?”  
“No,” Peter said and shook his head a little. Wade caught a whiff of his shampoo, which he only recognized because he'd smelled the bottle in the bathroom. 

[Ew, creepy.]  
 _Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ Wade begged the voices in his head not to ruin the mood now. 

“You didn't fail. You did what you had to do, just like you said. It's … it's not okay, but … it's okay.”  
“I'm sorry,” Wade just repeated, both of them holding each other close. God, it felt so good. Wade couldn't recall the last time he'd just hugged someone like that, or, in fact, could recall any time in the recent past where somebody even wanted to be close enough to touch him. 

“You're really strong, god, I think I got a broken rib,” Wade joked, daring to move his arms up as well, slowly stroking over Peter's back.   
“It'll heal,” Peter said quietly, and his breath ghosted over Wade's neck. No, Wade did absolutely not notice that, nor did he register how firm the muscles in Peter's back were that he could feel through his shirt. Nope, not at all, cause that would be weird and inappropriate.   
[You're a nasty boy.]  
(Is it even legal to be so turned on from hugging someone?)  
[Probably not. - Boner alert in threeee, twooooo-]  
“O-okay, um, can we just … uh … I should go, you need some sleep,” Wade hurried to say, cursing at his voices and himself mentally because of course his body had to betray him like this. Peter watched him, nodding slowly but not moving an inch after Wade had twisted out of his hold.

 

“Stay?”  
Wade almost missed it, turning at the last second, his hands already on the windowsill.  
“Did you say something?”   
Peter held his gaze, but didn't say anything. Wade waited, sensing that he shouldn't just run off now.   
“I … said … maybe you wanna stay?”

[OH SHIT DUDE HE WANTS TO FUCK!?]  
(He never said that. Maybe he just wants to give us a long monologue about power and responsibility.)  
[Boy howdy there sure is a lot of power going on in our pants right now!]  
[And in his, I mean have you seen that ass?!)  
[How could I not, we literally share the same eyes. Oooh look at his face, oh god, oh shit – caaaaaaaan you feeeeeeeeel the loooooove toniiiiiiiiiiiight!]

 

Finally Wade reached up to remove his mask, because for one he wanted to understand right. And he also wanted Peter to understand right, so he let him have another look at his face to remind him what he was dealing with.   
“And do what?”  
Peter's eyes widened and he tried to hide it by looking down. It didn't work.   
“Uhm …” he only hummed, looking up again without saying anything else. 

Wade realized it was up to him, now or never, to make a move and decide where – whatever it was that they had – would lead. The right decision would've been to put distance between them, for Wade to leave Peter to himself and not drag him into his dark and twisted world full of blood and death. 

But Wade wanted to be selfish. Just this one time in his life he wanted to claim something for himself, even if it should end up being for one night only.   
So he dared it all and returned to Peter only to pull him into a kiss. The younger made a surprised noise against Wade's lips, but angled his head quickly, both hands grabbing Wade's shoulders. He was so strong that Wade very clearly felt pure want bubble up inside him when Peter pulled him in closer by the back of his neck. 

“Please stay,” Peter repeated against Wade's lips, both of them immediately sinking into another kiss. He pushed Wade's leather jacket off and pulled the hood of his pullover from his head, one hand sinking onto the back of his neck while the other bunched up the fabric of his hoodie on his back.   
A pleasant shiver ran down Wad's spine and he dared to move Peter backwards a little, the younger obediently stumbling back, pulling Wade with him toward the bed. When Peter let himself fall back, both of them tumbling onto the bed, Wade's hands were on his slim hips and he was so tempted to tear off his clothes.   
But all he did was tentatively caress the skin just over the waistline of Peter's pants, He wanted to devour him, be even more greedy and take everything Peter was so obviously willing to give him. 

“Slow down,” Wade heard himself whisper instead, groaning when Peter pulled him into another kiss, slim legs wrapping around Wade's hips.   
“No.”  
A smile pulled on Wade's lips at Peter's needy whine, but he still caught Peter's hand when it wanted to dip under his hoodie.   
“Yes,” Wade argued, getting a hold of Peter's wrists to pin them above his head. They were slim enough that Wade only needed one hand to hold them down, but they both knew that Peter could've broken free in a heartbeat if he really wanted to. The sigh that Peter breathed into their next kiss had Wade guess that he wasn't all that upset about being held down. 

[Don't tell me he's kinky, too, I can't handle this!]  
(He's gotta be, for a guy who's all webs and flexible limbs he's just gotta be, it's a law of nature.)  
[Please, let's just fuck him, just this once, while we still got the chance!]  
 _No_ Wade thought, trying to ignore his two voices. _Not with him, never. He's special._  
[Bitch we're gonna be special needs people, too! I bet permanent blue balls are a disability!]  
 _Shut up. Shut your fucking mouth up already!_

The turmoil in his head was just one more reason for Wade not to rush things with Peter, because there was no way he was touching him while he wasn't even able to concentrate. There might always be the chance that this was a one off thing, even if they took it slow. As far as Wade knew, Peter's only ever been with girls, so who knew if he liked fucking a guy. He probably didn't even know himself, and if he decided it wasn't for him, then Wade at least wanted the memory to last.   
[You mean wank-folder. Cause that sounds like wank-folder.]  
(Absolutely wanky.)

Peter moaned into Wade's mouth, prompting him to at least move his hips a little bit, to get some friction going between them. God, Peter loved him for wanting to take it slow, would've never guessed that Wade was such a sweet guy. But that wasn't at all what he wanted after the shock of their ruined patrol.   
He'd surprised himself by asking Wade to stay, a far more daring move than he'd expected from himself given that they'd never made any moves to acknowledge the tension between them.   
Somehow, judging by all the lewd comments and innuendos Wade tossed his way 24/7 Peter thought he'd just need a little prompting to go all the way. But Wade was even keeping his hands pinned above his head, kissing him so thoroughly that Peter soon forgot all complaints, his head spinning and heart pounding too fast for the more or less innocent making out. 

“I'm sorry.”  
Peter heard Wade whisper to him later. He'd lost all track of time and wanted to reply something, but sleep pulled him under too quickly, his head sinking onto the older's chest. 

 

Peter woke up in the early morning hours to his laptop chiming away loudly. He groaned, running both hands over the sheets searching for Wade, cracking his eyes open when he didn’t get a hold of him.   
There was a note on the bedside table, a Hello Kitty post-it no less, telling Peter that Wade had gone out to get them some breakfast, but would be back shortly. 

Peter sat up, the note still between his fingers, and smiled. He assumed that it would be awkward now to think back on the night they’d spent together, even though there’d been hardly anything more than kissing. But now he just felt happy, and looked forward to have Wade returning with food and his usual noisy chatter that Peter had grown to like a lot.   
“So what do you want now?” Peter sighed, forcing himself off the bed to address the angry beeps of his laptop. 

His fingers were ice cold as he opened the messages from his own programme apprehensively.  
Lines of text appeared in a black box on screen and Peter fell back into the chair, heart thumping too loud even to his own ears. 

 

It had started out only an hour after the incident, when a shaky video file had been uploaded to a private chat group dedicated to Spiderman. Peter felt dread settle deep in his stomach, forcing him to slump back into his office chair as he clicked the play button. 

The person recording breathed heavily, like they’d just been running, and the camera showed steel beams and dusty concrete, probably from one of the constructions sites around. There were loud clicking noises before the picture steadied, so the camera was probably sitting on a flat surface now. 

No matter which kinds of sceptics saw this, Peter knew there was no way to downplay what the footage showed:

Of course it was dark, but Spiderman and Deadpool were easy to spot, advancing on the black van. The whole exchange was a lot quicker than Peter remembered, the two of them dragging out the henchmen and Peter restraining them.   
It only took seconds for them to notice the man left in the car, and as soon as he got out a shot echoed through the alley, the person behind the camera hissing out a curse in surprise. 

Peter felt sick to his stomach as he saw himself run away, turn his back on a literal murder he just witnessed. He all but fled while Wade stayed behind.   
There was no telling what exactly Wade was doing, but it was clear enough that he tempered with the scene to make it look less like an assassination. Peter had no idea if he’d done a good enough job, and at that moment he really didn’t care – he just slumped with his head in his hands.

Only minutes later Wade came back, surprising Peter by turning the key and entering through the front door. He was wearing civilian clothes, but used the black hood of his hoodie and a baseball cap to cover up most of his face.   
His entrance was so different than all those times before that Peter knew he'd somehow heard of the news.   
And sure enough when Peter turned he was horrified to see a newspaper in Wade's hand, the front page clearly showing both of them in costume. He must’ve picked it up from the hallway. 

He looked like a deer caught in the headlights when Peter looked over to him.   
“Uh … morning?” he tried, quickly trying to change the position of the newspaper in his hands, but Peter just swivelled in his chair to face him fully.   
“I saw it already.”

Wade growled in frustration and threw the newspaper onto the floor next to the trash can, looking ready to kill.  
“They can’t just do that!”  
“Well, they did. Why are you reading this anyways?” Peter asked, getting up to pack his stuff for his courses the following day just to give his hands something to do. Of course he was just as angry, but even more than that he was numb. There was nothing he could do about this news spreading, at that rate it was probably all around the globe now, and people would make of that what they wanted, would see what they wanted, not what Peter or Wade explained.

“Why are you even working for them?!”  
“’Cause it helps paying the rent. Being Spiderman doesn’t pay off.”  
“And obviously doesn’t even give you good credit! Are they fucking nuts?! What the actual fuck is that?!”

“Honey, don’t get so angry, they’re writing stupid things all the time,” Peter reminded and surprised himself by blurting out the nickname. Wade looked up in a stunned silence and Peter almost laughed at the very obvious blush on his cheeks. Seemed like Wade had assumed he was the only one dishing out the names.  
He caught himself quickly, however, and pointed to the paper again.  
“No, but, they’re writing about _you_! I don’t want that! They have to be nice to you. You’re a fucking hero!”  
“Thanks.”

“Petey, I mean it,” Wade argued, sounding desperate. Peter stopped and let Wade reach out for him. “I don't want you having to go through this. Not because of me. I-”  
“Stop that. - No, don't argue,” Peter interrupted, lifting a finger when Wade opened his mouth again. “We're … a team … and that's that. I won’t let some news agency tell me who to be with and who not.”  
“We are?”   
It was stupid, but Wade couldn't help asking. 

He didn't want to hear Peter clarifying their relationship, declaring that it had been a mistake, something fueled by desperation and confusion when they kissed. But he needed to hear it, so his heart would stop beating too fast whenever he looked at Peter.   
“We are. A team, I mean,” he said and Wade wanted to pull his hands away, but Peter didn 't let him. He was one of the few people strong enough to hold him back, and used his strength now. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt, the touch firm but gentle. “When we're out. I don't have a label yet for what we're here ...” he explained, running his thumb over the back of Wade's hand, no reservations about his skin condition at all.   
“But it's … more, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
Wade nodded, unsure how to react, but thankfully Peter saved him.   
“It's not a good time now to … do this. Let's give it some time, okay? I don't want to rush anything.”  
“Right, good call.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes, yes, absolutely,” Wade said, holding Peter's hands tight and wishing he could just keep doing that for however long he wanted until all of this mess had blown over. “You're right. And I don't want us to rush anything, either. Please, let's … let's do this the right way?”  
Wade honestly hoped and prayed that for once in his life he was actually able to do the right thing. In basically every aspect he'd screwed up, but this one time he wanted to succeed.   
He'd never wanted anything as much as Peter's love.   
“Yeah,” the younger now breathed and Wade was pulled from his thoughts when Peter kissed him softly. Even though it wasn't their first kiss, it still surprised Wade just the same. How Peter could just touch him as if it was the most natural thing to do, how there wasn't even a split second of doubt or disgust in him. 

 

Of course the story was all over the internet as well, with pictures suddenly emerging from various sites, all showing the two of them interacting. More pictures from the night of the incident had appeared, but it seemed like there was only this one video and people took still images from it.   
What concerned Peter the most was that all those pictures resurfaced that he had worked so hard on deleting. And even worse, a small community on Reddit was now onto him using a bot to get rid of the pictures.   
“Shit, shit,” he grumbled, hurrying to disconnect the programme and push it over to his external hard drive just to be safe.   
“What? More bad news?” Wade said, lounging on the floor and playing games on his phone. Peter wished he could have his positive attitude, or maybe it was just ignorance. Well, in any case it must’ve been blissful.   
“Nothing major. Just gotta take my hands off the internet for a while, I guess.”  
“Jesus take the wheeeeeel~” Wade sing-songed, coming over to hug him from behind. “So we’re gonna stay in tonight, right?”  
“Hm? No, of course not.”

Wade stared at the monitor in confusion, faced with the mess the internet was right now regarding them.   
“But I can’t show my ol’ mug anytime soon...”   
“You don’t have to, just take it easy. But I'll go out again tonight. It's what I always do.”  
Wade watched as Peter smiled and grabbed another book to work on, oblivious to the magnitude of those news. This wasn't only about them being seen in public together, this was about one of New York's pure, friendly neighborhood heroes hooking up with a guy who killed for money.  
Who had killed on camera and didn't even feel sorry for it.

 

“Are you really sure? We could, like, have some fun tonight, let the people calm down,” Wade urged as soon as night fell over the city. Peter was already getting into his suit, tucking the communicator to his belt with a web.   
“No, I'm doing what I always do. They're angry now but they'll calm down when they need a hero.”  
He sounded so sure of himself that Wade couldn't find any more arguments against him going. So he just scratched the back of his neck, watching as Peter got his gloves on and climbed out of the open window gracefully.   
“Call me if you need anything? Oh, and, uh, do you, uh, want some breakfast when you're back?”   
Peter smiled, and it was soft and lovely and everything Wade wanted him to stay with him for. He had a deep sense of dread filling him, telling him that Peter wouldn't smile like that if he went out now.   
“You don't have to wait up for me. You need to rest, too.”  
“I don't. I'm immortal I never rest,” Wade argued and loved Peter's laugh. He wanted to pull him back in and keep him in his arms for the rest of the night.   
“I'm gonna be fine, I promise.”  
That was clear enough, but Wade wished he had enough guts to insist on staying, so that Peter could have someone to come home to. But maybe that was contrary to taking it slow.   
“Okay,” he agreed eventually and was rewarded by Peter leaning in and brushing a chaste kiss to his lips.   
“See you tomorrow. Take care on the way home.”  
“You, too. Text me when you're home?”  
“Sure.”  
“Don't you dare be late,” Wade mumbled when Peter was already climbing down, unsure whether he'd heard it or not. 

Wade kept staring out of the window for long minutes, even after Peter webbed himself away towards town. It would take him another half hour until he could force himself to leave as well.

 

Everything felt quite normal to Peter, and the familiarity of swinging high up over the blocks and busy streets brought a smile to his face. The tension in his shoulders finally eased with the comfortable exercise and he switched through the police radio frequencies as usual.   
_”Backup needed, armed person in the court parking lot,”_ a metallic voice echoed through the system a few moments later, and Peter listened to the coordinates, carefully angling his wrist to correct his own course towards the site. 

He spotted the man from far above already – a sporty looking younger man, short brown hair, casual clothes but with two guns, one in each hand. He yelled something at the people behind the windows of the court building, and if Peter remembered right it was the part responsible for custody decisions.   
It would be better not to make too big of a scene, Peter decided, as he let himself drop down low to land in a tree. He climbed down slowly, still one hallway between him and the man but all ears on him already.   
Which was why he didn't realize that people on the other side of the street already noticed him. 

“Get lost, you freak!”  
“Murderer!” Someone else shrieked and Peter rolled his eyes under the mask.  
“I didn't kill anybody!” he hissed at them, feeling the strange urge to explain himself even though he knew that he couldn't. It didn't matter what he said, they'd never understand.  
“Right, keep saying that! Fuck off, we don't want you here!”  
“We don't need Mercs roaming the streets! Who knows who pays you!”  
“Nobody!”  
Peter could just about dodge a milk carton being hurled at his head. It resulted in him not watching his back so someone could hit him with a beer bottle right between the shoulder blades. Just when he turned something hit him and he realized someone, maybe a shop owner, had brought a baseball bat. 

Only an hour after that, in the middle of the night, Peter crawled into his bedroom. His hand slipped on the window frame and he fell head first onto the floor, groaning loudly.   
He saw that his left glove was ripped and there was a cut seeping blood through the tear. Still on the floor, Peter tugged both gloves off, then pulled at his mask, hissing at the pain stinging on his scalp.  
Of course he'd gotten injured on patrol multiple times, but he'd never experienced something like this. People all but ganged up on him. He's never even had the chance to help arresting the armed man at court, too busy dodging things, forcing himself not to fight back because he didn't want to hurt innocent people. 

He made it out of his shirt, sobbing when he moved his shoulder that hurt so much his vision blurred out a little. After some deep breaths with the side of his face that hurt the least pressed against the floor, Peter managed to fumble his boots off.  
He threatened to drift off into unconsciousness but tapped his finger against the floor to remind himself of where he was. His head spun when he finally pushed himself up onto all fours, more or less climbing into his bed because there was no way he could stand up. 

He huffed, dropping into a weird position half on his stomach, half on his side so he could leave as many of his injuries without pressure.   
His shoulder stung and so did his eyes, both from him constantly overworking himself and from frustrated tears collecting in them.   
He wanted to sleep, wanted to forget everything for a while, but it just wasn't happening.   
So he laid there, the house descending into an unusual silence around him, weighing him down heavily until all he could do was close his eyes, mind still racing.

 

In the early morning hours, he was woken up by his downstairs neighbor slamming the door shut so hard it made the cups in his kitchen clatter against each other. Peter didn't have to look at the clock to know it was precisely five a.m, like every morning that Mr. Muñez went to work.  
Peter watched the door for a minute, wondering whether or not he should call Wade.  
He could barely stand himself and what he'd done, it would only get worse if he had Wade around all the time. It wasn't that he was angry at Wade, not at all, but he hated himself for running away. He should've stayed and cleared up the scene right away, explained to the authorities what had happened and if possible get Wade out first so he wouldn't get in trouble.   
But no, Peter ran away like a frightened child.

He could feel the covers sticking to his skin here and there, where the blood from his wounds soaked into the fabric. Peter had noticed it, but never bothered to get up.   
Not even now, as the other tennants slowly began their days, did he feel the need to move. He just listened to them, his mind blissfully blank for once, welcoming them numbness after a night of worrying and short, confusing dreams. 

 

Wade rolled over in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't slept for a second that night, instead turned on the TV at some point to watch some sitcom re-runs.  
He kept thinking of Peter, grabbing his phone over and over throughout the night only to put it down right away, too shy to contact him. He didn't want to bother Peter, wanted to give him some space, but of course he worried about him.

Wade tried to make breakfast, but ended up pouring waffle batter all over the place, only to find out that the milk he'd used had long since gone bad when he licked some of the batter off his finger. There was only a foul smelling, brown fluid dripping out of his sink when he wanted to turn on the water to wipe the counter, and it didn't look any different in the bathroom.   
Cursing loudly, Wade wiped his sticky hands on a dirty towel he found on the bathroom floor, stomping back over to the bedroom to rip some random clothes from the pile growing bigger and bigger on an old chair in the corner. 

 

One subway ride later Wade found himself in the alley next to Peter's apartment, staring up only to find his window open. It was a bit too cold to leave it open all night, even for Peter's hightened endurance, and this little detail alone made a knot form in Wade's stomach.   
He started climbing up the stairs then, for the first time ever not worrying about the old construction collapsing under him.   
His heart raced, blood rushing so loud that he barely heard the metallic creaks each of his movements resulted in. An edge of the curtains had been pulled outside by the wind, and when Wade moved it aside, he spotted a smear of blood on the windowsil right away.   
“Petey?” he asked, nauseous with dread.   
He climbed in slowly, not wanting to spook the other man, freezing when he saw even more blood on the floor. Obviously Peter collapsed on there a while ago, the drips and smears now brown with oxidation.   
Wade was barely breathing when he turned to find Peter on his bed, face down with a trickle of dried blood running from his hairline down the back of his neck. There was another healing cut on his shoulder blade, the bleeding there even worse, almost covering his entire back as the blood no doubt soaked through the fabric of Peter's costume.   
“Petey!” Wade yelled, horrified now, crouching down next to the bed. 

He knew that Peter could heal faster as well, but his healing factor was nowhere near as strong as Wade's, and the older feared it might have not been enough, especially considering the wound somewhere on his head, hidden by matted hair.   
A loud groan startled Wade out of his panic, and he stumbled back and fell on his ass when Peter turned his head to look at him.   
“What?” he grumbled, like it was just any other morning that Wade had woken him up. One of his hands crawled up the pillow out of habit, and Wade saw another cut between his fingers, looking like he'd stopped something sharp from launching at his face. 

“You fucking idiot! What the fuck happened?!” Wade blurted out, Peter's brows furrowing but immediately relaxing again because he'd gotten a massive black eye.   
“People suck, is all,” he answered quietly, groaning when he tried to sit up. Despite his anger Wade gently helped him into a sitting position, kneeling on the bed without asking and examining Peter's head.   
“Ah, careful,” Peter hissed, but Wade didn't listen to him, wanting to punish him at least a little for not being more responsible. He found a cut along the right side of his head, but it had healed already, the blood all dried up and the skin underneath pink and new. 

“I fucking told you not to go out and you went, I was … I was worried fucking sick, you dumbass,” Wade said, checking on Peter's shoulder but finding this cut healed as well. Peter's whole skin was sticky, not just with blood but with sweat too, and Wade knew he probably hurried home to get away from the attacks.   
“You stupid-ass spider, why didn't you listen?”  
 _Why did I let you go?_ Wade thought as he pulled Peter into his arms. 

“Ow … sorry … I am dumb, you're right ...” he mumbled, hanging on as tight as he could, and there were tears in his eyes when Wade let him go.

Wade was used to it by now, but he could hardly bear to see Peter brought down like this, knowing that the public hated him now.   
“It's gonna be fine,” he said lamely, brushing the tears from Peter's cheeks that the other worked hard on holding, but failed.   
“It's stupid, don't … god, don't ...” Peter tried batting Wade's hands away, but the older didn't let him. Scarred hands framed Peter's face, and for once Wade had forgotten about his marred skin that lead to him distancing himself from other people. All he cared about now was Peter and how much he hated to see his Petey in pain.

 

his own healing factor and he hated to see his Petey in pain.   
“We should clean you up, then you'll rest …” Wade mumbled, nodding along with Peter. “Come on,” he said, getting up and lifting Peter onto his arms.   
“I can walk!” the younger protested, but Wade just shrugged, carrying him over to the bathroom where he carefully sat him down on the edge of the bathtub. Peter sighed, rubbing both hands over his face, getting both even dirtier. He looked beyond exhausted even though he'd just woken up, and Wade felt so bad for him.   
He let the shower run and checked that the water was really heating up this time – thankfully it was. 

“Hey,” Wade called softly and couldn't resist the urge to touch Peter's hair. “Wanna tell me what happened?”  
Peter lowered his head, staring at the mat on the floor. Wade loved the hideous thing – a fluffy round mat with orange flowers on it, looking like it had time travelled right into Peter's bathroom from the 70s. Peter had once told Wade that his aunt May had bought a lot of the household items for him, and this was no doubt one of them.  
“You don't have to. Let's get you into the shower, huh? I promise I won't look,” he attempted to joke, and the corner of Peter's mouth twitched up.   
He reached out, running his cleaner hand over Wade's, poking at a speck of dried waffle batter still sticking to Wade's skin.   
“I'm not the only one who needs a shower,” he prompted. 

Wade would've expected his voices to ruin the moment, but both of them had apparently fallen into a stunned silence just like Wade himself.   
“No?” Peter breathed, letting go of Wade's hand, but Wade caught his fingers, mindful not to squeeze them. He knew Peter's hands would get sore from time to time from holding onto his webs, and with his quick exit last night he was bound to push himself too hard.   
“No, I mean yeah, I- I do totally need a shower.”

Peter got up then, and reached for the hem of Wade's shirt, the older looking everywhere but Peter when the fabric rustled to the floor.   
“Need help with your pants?”  
And this little bitch had the audacity to tease. Wade laughed, already out of breath even though they weren't doing anything yet.   
“No, how 'bout yo-WHOAH!”  
And because Wade was the biggest idiot of the century his intended sultry, cool question ended in him slipping on the beautifully tasteless flower mat and crashing to the floor with his pants around his knees and his boxers mid-thigh. 

[So graceful, look at that finishing move.]  
(This has got to win him gold this time, let's look at the judges' votes.)  
[Oh a perfect 10 for execution, a 9.5 for style and oh, an extra .5 for flashing the bits – that's a winner!]  
(The crowd is going wild!)  
[A new hope for Canada’s Olympic future!]

Wade hoped he could just spontaneously die, maybe his healing factor would just take a break for a moment. When he heard Peter gasp and break out in a big laugh, Wade knew he had no such luck.   
“Are you okay?” Peter asked, hiccupping because he just had the most perfect nerdy laugh. “Ah! My face hurts!” he yelped and now it was Wade who grinned.  
“That's what you get for laughing at your elders.”  
He got up, brushing a chaste, maybe only a little bit embarrassed kiss to Peter's forehead and helped him into the tub first. The he kicked off the clothes crumpled around his legs and tried really, really hard not to stare when he got into the tub.

When he did look, he flinched at the state of Peter’s body. He was more or less covered in blood and grime, the water coming off his body in orange rivulets.   
“Fuck, you look terrible,” Wade blurted out and Peter smirked.   
“Wow, thanks.”  
Wade felt himself blush because of course he couldn’t stop himself from ogling Peter all over, suddenly acutely aware that they’ve never seen each other fully naked.   
“No! I mean …oh god … you-you gotta turn around – fuck, no! – I meant so I can get all that dirt off you – ohgodpleasedon’tthinkI’mapervert!”  
Peter just laughed, turning around and handing Wade a bottle of shower gel.  
“I’m not thinking anything. Help me, please?”  
“Sure, sure,” Wade said, glad Peter couldn’t see him turn beet-red. He was feeling a lot better now that Peter couldn’t see all of his disgusting skin anymore, but somehow Wade was still embarrassed to even be with him like this.   
Really, he shouldn’t be. Peter was so amazing, so pretty, he could have anyone-

“Thanks for … you know … checking on me.”

There was a lump forming in Wade’s throat as he carefully moved the shower head over Peter’s shoulders, catching some of the water to let it run over his head without the pressure.   
“Is this okay?” Wade asked after clearing his throat, and Peter just hummed.   
“Thank you,” he repeated after a moment, when Wade started to rub shower gel into his shoulder and back, mindful to avoid the healing cut on his shoulder as much as possible.   
“I couldn’t even sleep,” Wade blurted out and the moment the words left his lips he prayed that the sound of the water rushing down on them would drown them out. No such luck.   
“Sorry.”   
“Forget about it, I’m just being stupid. Don’t move,” Wade added quietly when Peter wanted to turn around, but he still had to at least try and wash his hair.   
“You’re not stupid, Wade. Seriously. I’m a mess and it’s all my fault – Ow, fuck!”  
“Sorry.”  
Wade tried to move his fingers through the matted strands at the back of Peter’s head, the water still running off in red and brown streaks. When he managed to get all the blood out of his hair he saw a big wound spanning the left side of Peter’s head. Whatever hit him, the blow would’ve been hard enough to break the skull of a normal human.   
“Why didn’t you listen?” Wade whispered and couldn’t hold back from pressing a gentle kiss to Peter’s shoulder.   
“I thought .. I don’t know what I thought.”  
He waited for Wade to rinse out his hair, then turned, closing the minimal distance left between them to lean against Wade’s chest. He didn’t have to say anything anymore, Wade could feel the despair in the way Peter’s arms squeezed around him, in the shuddering breath he drew. 

“Will you stay tonight?”  
“Only if you stay, too,” Wade heard himself say, and was surprised that he even got the words out, let alone some that made sense in a sentence.   
“Yeah,” Peter just said, the word almost inaudible by the water rushing down. He expected to see tears, but when Peter looked up Wade was only met with Peter’s beautiful eyes locking with his own. Wade got lost for a moment, his mind beautifully blank for once, all the voices shut up, and before he knew it he lowered his head and kissed Peter.

It took him a moment to realize that this was actually happening, and when he moved his lips tentatively against Peter's, the younger already opened his mouth, running his tongue over Wade's bottom lip teasingly. He was an amazing kisser, Wade deducted when he tilted Peter's head back gently, their tongues sliding against one another, Peter taking control of the kiss more often than not. 

Wade’s hands hovered, unsure where he was allowed to touch, ultimately settling on Peter’s hips. He was still hesitant, but couldn't hold back when Peter's lips moved against his, when after what seemed like forever, he felt the warmth and weight of another body close to his. He tipped Peter's head up and ran his tongue over Peter's lower lip.   
Peter opened his mouth right away, his warm breath ghosting over Wade’s skin, and he took over the kiss. His tongue ran over Wade’s and he slung both arms around Wade’s neck, pulling him close. Surprised by his passion, the older stumbled forward, crowding Peter against the shower wall.   
“Ah!” Peter yelped when his injured shoulder hit the cold tiles, and Wade jerked back.   
“Fuck, sorry, sorry.”  
“Don’t stop.”  
“Wait your-“   
Peter interrupted him with a searing kiss and Wade forgot to breathe when the younger pushed him against the wall instead. He groaned, reaching down to pick Peter up and keep him from bumping around more. The breathless laugh he earned himself made his head swim and Wade was glad that Peter reached out with his uninjured arm and held onto the tiles securely.   
“You good?”  
“Perfect.” Peter's lips were already back on Wade's as they spoke, kissing him like he'd die without it. 

Wade wanted to take it easy, he really tried to, but all his plans went out the window when Peter started rolling his hips down, doing his very best to get them both hard within seconds. Moaning against Peter's lips, Wade gave up all reservations, thrusting up slowly, delighted when Peter sighed into the kiss. 

“Hold on,” he growled into Peter's neck, sucking a bruise into his soft skin, similar in color to the others on his body, but with a much, much different sentiment behind it. Peter just hummed, not moving, maybe because he didn't deem it necessary, but jolting when Wade wrapped a hand around his cock. Then he hurried to get both his hands onto the wall, clinging to it. Wade grinned, hiding it by kissing along Peter's collarbone, caressing a scratch that ran right underneath it.   
After jerking him a few times, keeping his grip tight and satisfied with listening to Peter's gasps whenever he twisted his hand just right, Wade let go to force Peter's hips down. 

“W-Wade …” Peter mewled, pressing his lips to Wade’s shoulder, his breaths on Wade’s wet skin making the older shudder pleasantly.   
“You close, babe?”  
It seemed like Peter couldn’t answer anymore, just whined quietly. His hands got restless, wandering all over Wade’s shoulders and chest, sometimes leaving only the hint of a scratch from blunt fingernails, just barely enough to send sparks all over Wade's skin.  
The older reached down and took both of them into one hand, stroking hard and fast because he could barely stand upright under the waves of pleasure washing over him.   
Peter leaned back and Wade startled, calming down again when he noticed Peter was staring down in between them, lips red from kissing, parted as he gasped. His beautiful eyes, now dark with lust, fluttered closed and a quiet moan broke free when he spilled over Wade's fingers. The view alone was enough to tip Wade over the edge as well.

Wade dropped back against the wall before his knees buckled and he sat down on the edge of the tub, Peter ending up straddling him. The cutest giggles sneaked at the end of Peter's gasps and Wade held him tighter to hear more of this, hiding his own grin in Peter’s wet hair. 

 

They caught their breath and made out like teenagers while finishing their shower, never more than an inch or two between them at any given time. Even though he was still shy about Peter seeing him and all his nasty skin naked, Wade surprised himself with how much he actually enjoyed Peter’s touch.   
Maybe a little too much, he found as he felt his blood rush south once again.   
“Out with you, you’ll get wrinkly hands like me,” Wade commented and all but lifted Peter out of the tub, who let out a squeak.   
“Stop it, I can move just fine!” he laughed and playfully batted at Wade’s hands. Still fully nude and dripping water onto that hideous shower mat, Peter walked over to the mirror to take a look at his shoulder. “Oh? It looks a lot better than I imagined.”  
“True,” Wade mumbled, but he wasn’t at all looking at Peter’s shoulder. Licking his lips, Wade forced himself to avert his gaze and hurried to collect his clothes and dress himself. 

“You should take a nap, you gotta heal,” Wade stressed when they walked out of the bathroom. Wade knew he was blushing furiously, and he was way too close to getting hard again just thinking about what they’d just done.   
“I can’t sleep now … I need some food. Let’s have early lunch. What do you want?”  
“My treat, what do you want?” Wade replied and snatched the delivery menu out of Peter’s hands. “I’m having spicy chicken noodle soup.”  
“I want fried rice.”  
“Shrimp?”  
“No, veggie please.”  
“Got it, sweet cheeks.” Wade grinned when Peter raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, nodding toward his middle. “Cause those are pretty sweet, you gotta agree.”  
And that’s how Wade saw the cutest fucking thing ever in the entire universe when Peter turned away with a shy smile, looking flustered all of a sudden.   
“Gotta make sure I get you for dessert.”  
“What?”  
“I said: Do you wanna have dessert?”   
“No, thanks!”

[Nice save.]  
(Yeah he almost didn’t notice that we were getting creepy )  
 _”We were not creepy!”_ Wade shot back mentally, shaking his head as he grabbed the phone sitting on the kitchen counter. It was an old landline device, and Wade was pretty sure aunt May made Peter get one.  
[Dude, you wanted to eat his ass for dessert just now, no use lying to us.]  
“Ugh, god, shut up,” Wade groaned and was glad Peter didn’t react to him. Hopefully he just ignored all the craziness blurting out of Wade’s mouth 24/7.  
He busied himself with ordering lunch, staring at Peter's back whenever the younger passed by the doorway. Peter had put on a pair of grey sweatpants, riding low on his slim hips. Powerful muscles moved under his skin and Wade almost drooled at the thought of mapping them with fingers and tongue.   
[Ew.]  
(Sshh, stop, he's having a moment.)  
[He's having a boner, is all!]  
(But also a moment.)

Thankfully, for his already sketchy sanity and blood pressure, Peter had put on a t-shirt when Wade got back into the bedroom. He was also already at his desk, turning on his computer and flipping open one of his heavy books.   
“You're not tired?” Wade asked, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He hesitated a moment before going over and stroking both hands over Peter's shoulders, testing the waters and hoping things weren't getting awkward now.   
“Not that much. I'll just do some work,” Peter explained, and Wade kissed his hair.  
“Can I keep you company?”  
Peter's hand landed on Wade's, his thumb stroking over the back of Wade's hand.   
“Of course, babe.”

So Wade set another sweet little kiss to Peter's head, then flopped down on his bed. He watched him for a while and took a short nap, now knowing that Peter was alive and well, and later got out his phone to play some games. 

When he looked up from his phone he found Peter still studying. Every few seconds he picked up a marker or pen to take some notes.  
“Don’t you wanna sleep a little?” Wade asked, patting the bed invitingly but Peter didn’t even look his way.   
“Can’t. I haven’t slept at this hour since middle school … I’ve got a paper due anyway, I’ll just submit it early.”  
“And then?”  
“Then I'll start the next assignment.”  
He didn't even look up from his computer and Wade frowned, shutting off his phone. He watched Peter for a moment, the other not noticing him as it seemed, because he didn't move an inch away from his book.   
To anybody else he would've looked calm, like he was just studying like a normal young man. But Wade knew him, knew what kind of energy lived in him and had grown to love his strength and bubbly personality, his lightning quick mind that got him the ability to hold his own against Wade's quips.   
And now there he was, sitting silently at his desk for the fourth hour in a row without a break. 

 

Peter couldn't be Spiderman anymore and Wade hated seeing him depressed. This was a part of himself, and Peter had been forced to give it all up for the foreseeable future.   
For what?   
To spend his life cooped up inside with a killer?

“Did you sleep last night?” Wade asked, setting an alarm for the next morning - he saw on his schedule that Peter had courses the next day – and put his phone onto the bedside table.   
“Not much. I think at first I passed out a bit, but I was up most of the night.”  
“Petey, come to bed.”  
“I'm almost done,” Peter argued, his voice still even, his body immobile, but Wade wasn't having any of this anymore. He got up and gently placed his hands on Peter's shoulders.   
“Come on, let's get some sleep. You look tired.”  
“I'm okay.”  
“No, you're not. Stop this, it's not for tomorrow, right?” Wade asked, closing up Peter's book and taking the pen from his hand. The younger huffed but let Wade proceed.  
“No, but-”  
“Then let's sleep.”  
Peter sighed, looking up to Wade and the older expected to see him annoyed or angry. But in reality all that he did see in his beautiful eyes was exhaustion and regret.  
“Come on, I'll keep the bad dreams away.”  
A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he shook his head minutely as if he wanted to dismiss the offer, but Wade kept on pushing him over to the bed. He sat down first and patted the sheets invitingly, not ogling at all   
[Totally ogling.]   
(Oh yeah, absolutely.)   
when Peter pulled his shirt off. 

“I really don't think I can sleep,” he whined, nonetheless sinking down onto the bed and relaxing when Wade pulled him into his arms.   
“Don't worry 'bout those people,” Wade whispered and Peter hid his face against his neck. Wade was glad that Peter trusted him this much to have him around when he was that vulnerable, that he let Wade hold him while he hid from the world. Wade placed a chaste little kiss to Peter's head, petting his neck until Peter's breathing evened out.

 

“Don’t tell me you worked all day long again!”  
Peter jumped when Wade’s voice sounded right next to him the following evening, the Merc climbing in through the window. He wore civilian clothes and Peter mused why exactly he didn't come through the front door when a bag of pastries on the one edge of Peter’s desk that wasn’t loaded with papers. 

After sharing breakfast just before noon, Wade had to go out to take care of a few things – that Peter purposely didn't ask about – and so Peter was left with his studies all day. It seemed like he'd lost himself in the books just a little bit. 

“I … I guess so … what time is it?!” Peter asked, taking off his glasses that he only wore out of habit now and that he’d long since removed the lenses of.   
“Like, eight-ish. I thought we could load up on some sugar?”  
Suddenly Peter realized how hungry he was, his stomach growling and legs stiff because he’d been sitting for most of the day.   
“Great idea, I didn’t even notice …” he muttered, saving the document he’d been working on while Wade giggled and dropped to the floor unceremoniously. He handed Peter one of the pastries and the younger loved this familiarity between them. After last night he'd feared that things would be a little awkward between them, but there was no such thing. If anything, they were even more at ease with each other than ever before.   
Peter still shirked the topic even to himself, but he recognized the fleeting thought that this might have been the most comfortable relationship he'd ever been in.

“You were totally in the zone, huh? How’s it going?”  
“Very good, so far, I think I'll get through the next round of tests easily.”  
“You got this. But today you'll take a break, city's waiting”  
“Where are we going?” Peter asked, more reluctant now. If Wade didn't know any better he could've sworn Peter just webbed himself to the chair so there was no way he could go.   
“Super secret mission today, can't possibly tell you.”  
“Can't we stay in tonight? Please?”  
“No can do, spidey boy. We're going,” Wade insisted, shoving the remaining half of his pastry into his mouth and nodding towards Peter's snack. 

It took a lot more pushing and prodding on Wade's end to get Peter to change clothes and get ready.   
“I don't wanna go out,” Peter groaned when he finally slipped into a pair of sneakers, rubbing his healed shoulder as if it still hurt.   
“No excuses, move it,” Wade interrupted him before he could even utter any, throwing Peter's jacket at him. It was one thing that Wade loved to hide away from the world, but an entirely different to see Peter exhibiting the same behaviour. Wade knew what it was like to turn away from everyone, thinking that you needed space but instead ending up alone and miserable. And there was no chance in hell he’d let Peter slide down this slippery slope. 

Unlike any other night, they left through the hallway and main door this time, and Peter suddenly understood why Wade preferred to enter and leave through the window. He had his hood pulled up into his eyes, but when they passed Mrs. Tanaka, an elderly widow from two stories down, saw him passing by, she stared openly with narrowed eyes. Normally Peter made sure to greet her whenever they met, but this time, even though it was petulant, he didn't. 

 

It felt strange to be out like that, and Peter almost expected the people to shout at him still, somehow recognize him even without his suit and try to beat him up again. Of course his wounds had long since healed, but that didn't mean that he wasn't still affected by what had happened.   
He knew it was all his own fault, and that only made matters worse.  
“What are we doing?” he asked again, because he wanted some kind of goal so he could estimate when he could hide in his apartment again.   
“No idea. Let's just walk a bit. Anything you wanna do?”  
“No.”  
“Don't be a grumpy ass on me, I'm trying to help,” Wade shot back, and Peter lowered his head, feeling his cheeks burn up in shame.   
“Sorry,” he said and tentatively reached for Wade's hand. Wade's fingers closed around his with unusual determination and Peter looked over to him, Normally he was shy when it came to touches, but now he interlocked their fingers and ran his thumb over the back of Peter's hand.   
The sun had already set but Peter was almost sure he could see a blush on Wade's cheeks. Smiling, he looked ahead again, suddenly looking forward to spending a whole night just with Wade, having some time just for the two of them. God knew his past relationships had been short-lived and mostly shattered because he had to balance them with being Spiderman.   
And the more he thought about it, the more Peter realized that he’s never been as comfortable with anyone as he did with Wade. Not just because the older knew about his secret identity, and about the double life you had to have when you were a hero, but because something had just clicked between them. 

“Let’s watch a movie,” he suggested all of a sudden, unable to remember the last time he’d had enough time to check out the latest releases. Wade seemed pleasantly surprised and agreed quickly, leading them to the nearest theatre. 

The more crowded the streets around them got, the more Peter noticed people's attention on them, mainly Wade. Every few steps there would be whispers following them, and noticed how Wade hung his head more often than not whenever someone passed them.   
Now that his attention was on it, Peter also noticed other people staring at Wade, some more covert, some very much in the open. A group of highschooler's who hung out in front of the cinema made obnoxious loud jokes about his face, one of them even bumping into Wade on purpose.   
“Whoa there, Freddy's inbred cousin, watch where you're going!” he howled, the other kids almost falling over themselves with laughter behind him.   
“Straight to your Mom's house, Twinky,” Wade murmured when Peter shoved past them, pulling Wade along by the hand. The kids laughed even louder, this time at their friend's incineration.   
Even though he still got his quips, Peter knew Wade would've loved to leave, but probably kept strolling the busy streets because of Peter.  
“Where you going?” he asked when Peter left the busy streets.   
“Let's just walk for a bit.”  
Wade watched him curiously, but followed him along, away from the hoards of people and their hateful eyes. 

They got hot dogs at a food cart and walked to a nearby park while eating, talking about anything and everything. Of course there were less humans around the sparsely lit paths, and with less eyes on him Wade got more and more comfortable, cracking jokes and laughing openly with Peter, at some point even pushing back his hood. 

“You did not!” Peter cackled when they headed towards a bench, Wade throwing their napkins into the trash.   
“Of course! It was my one chance, Xavier wasn't around and the helmet just sat there. I had to do it for science.”  
“So what happened?” Peter asked with a grin, patting the bench next to him as he sat down. Wade shrugged, plopping down and throwing his right arm around Peter's shoulders comfortably.   
“Trolled everybody, of course, but I actually couldn't read any minds. Bummer.”  
“Poor you,” Peter agreed and pecked a kiss to Wade's cheek, laughing softly when the older very obviously blushed. They stayed snuggled up with each other, listening to the traffic rushing softly in the distance, and Peter liked to pretend that it was the sea.

“Thanks, for tonight, really. I didn't know I needed this.”  
Wade smiled, looking bashful at the praise, and Peter leaned over to kiss him again, letting his lips linger on Wade's for just a moment. “And thanks for, you know … putting up with people for me. I know it's not easy for you.”  
Wade shook his head, stroking his hand over Peter's shoulder affectionately.  
“Ah, it never was, don't worry 'bout it.”  
“No, I do worry. So thank you. Thanks a lot.”  
Wade squirmed, shrugging his shoulders like he wanted to dismiss Peter's statement, but the younger reached for his left hand, playing with his fingers. 

He never told him, maybe never would, but Peter was the only person in years that Wade allowed to touch his hands. It just was too intimate somehow, and there's never been anybody that Wade trusted enough to exchange more than a handshake, most of the time with gloves on.  
But then there was Peter, his beautiful, sweet Spidey that was just too good for the world, working too hard for just one person and still getting shit for it from the media and society. Even more now that Wade had dragged him into the mess of crime and murder that was his own miserable life choice.   
“I’m … I’m so sorry … about all this,” Wade sighed, encompassing the two of them and their surroundings with a gesture.   
“What are you sorry for? That I get some free days out of all this? I've always spent nights out ever since I got bitten. I like it.”  
Wade's shoulders sank down, his anxiety dissolving as always when he was sure that Peter was still happy. And with the way he smiled, Wade had no doubt about it.   
“It just all went so shitty.”  
“People talk. Let them. It’ll dissolve in a while, when the next bigger scandal comes along.”  
“But will people still see you as the same person then?”   
Peter fell silent, and Wade hated himself for his quick mouth. He often talked without thinking at all, just blurted stuff out, and now Peter was staring at the ground again. Wade was about to grab his hand and make some lame joke to distract him when the younger took a deep breath, letting the air back out in a big sigh and shrugging his shoulders.   
“I don't know. But I also don't care. If they want to hate me for something they don't understand, then let them. I won't put up with this ignorance, then.”

“I wish I had your spirit,” Wade sighed, and Peter looked over at him in confusion.   
“Isn't that exactly what you would say?”  
“Well, yeah, kinda, but you mean it. I just fake it til I make it.”  
“Oh, trust me, I don’t make it ever, at all. I’m all fakes. I’m glad for the mask as Spiderman, because most of the time I’m sure to look like a deer in the headlights.”  
Wade sensed that both Peter's bravado and his fear were real, but he still admired Peter's strength. This issue didn't also cost him the public's love, but it could also thwart all attempts at becoming an Avengers member. If anybody knew how disgustingly self-righteous this bunch was then it was Wade.   
No way they'd let someone into their ranks who was even remotely associated with murder.

Peter seemed to have similar thoughts, because his gaze wandered to the trees around them, worries clear in his eyes however much he tried to hide it.   
“Nah, babe, you’re doing great. I mean, when New York doesn’t hate you.”  
“Gee, thanks.”  
Wade grinned, his normal chatter dying down when Peter gently leaned his head on Wade's shoulder. He tipped his head up and set the lightest kiss to Wade's cheek. 

“I'm not sorry that I did it, cause the guy was an asshole. But I'm sorry that you had to be there and that people think you have anything to do with this,” Wade said eventually, kissing Peter's hair, still in disbelief that he could do this. That Peter didn't push him away, never had, not even after he'd killed a man right before his eyes.   
Peter turned his head a little more and Wade looked down, their eyes locking. Wade didn't know what he had expected to see, but it certainly was nothing near the soft gaze he found.   
“You don't have to apologize, it's not your fault. If anything than it's the people's fault for twisting things just how they want to see them.”  
“Well, people are shit.”  
Peter only hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, staring at the glimpses of busy city life they would see peeking through the trees even at this hour. 

 

“So,” Wade began after long minutes of silence, looking up to the sky sparkling with bright white stars. He remembered that morning when they watched the sunrise on Peter's roof and it felt like years ago.   
“So?” Peter asked and for the first time in the past few days he sounded content. Wade sincerely hoped he'd kicked something off, diminished the depression trying to creep into Peter's life where it absolutely had no place to be. He wanted Peter to be happy.   
“Wanna get going? We could walk to your place.”  
“Yeah. Let's go,” Peter agreed happily, pushing himself off the bench and stretching comfortably. 

They took a small detour to get more time to talk, both enjoying their time together, walking hand in hand or with Peter's arm hooked with Wade's. Eventually they got to Peter's house, talking more quiet now as to not wake up everybody on the first few floors who happened to sleep with their window open.   
It was bad enough that the other neighbors now judged them, Peter thought, no need to make them angry as well. 

Wade kissed him right in front of the door, just teasing the tip of his tongue over the edge of Peter's mouth, making the younger smirk. He played with Wade's hoodie, feeling the soft fabric between his fingertips while glancing up into Wade's eyes.   
Just one more kiss later, Wade's eyes darted to the door and then back, then to the ground to hide his uncertainty, but Peter didn't miss it.   
“I uhm … I should go.”  
“No, you really shouldn't,” Peter replied and looked up with a smile. Wade, unsure what to do, stood frozen when Peter tiptoed and kissed him, fingertips stroking over his neck and around to the back of his head, holding on gently. 

Minutes later Peter stumbled into his apartment backwards after Wade had unlocked his door, neither of them bothered enough to break their kiss. Wade threw the keys down onto the kitchen counter while Peter shrugged off his jacket, jerking back to gasp in a few breaths before Wade all but ripping up Peter's shirt, throwing it into a random corner of the kitchen.  
Peter pulled him along into the bedroom by hooking fingers into his belt loops, only easing his hold when Wade followed him to ruffle up his hoodie, letting the soft fabric rustle to the floor. 

Wade would often shy away from his touches, more so the lower Peter's hands moved. When Peter’s palm dragged over his abs, Wade caught his fingers, shaking his head minutely. He wanted to say something, remind Peter that he didn’t have to touch his marred body, but Peter shut him up effectively with a kiss, not allowing Wade to put any more distance between them. Both his hands found their way over Wade's body then, mapping hard the lines of his muscles, following the scars slowly downward.   
When he couldn’t stand it anymore, Wade caught Peter’s hands once again, holding onto his wrists this time as he ushered him over to the bed. He expected Peter to sit down first, maybe get a glimpse of those gorgeous eyes looking up at him, but Peter just pulled Wade along, catching them both before they could drop down and break the bed.

Now it was Wade staring down, his lips parted slightly because of course he just had to have the biggest kink for Peter’s strength. Just a breath later he found himself manhandled onto his back with a lapful of Peter kissing him within an inch of his life.   
Wade wanted to slow this down, he really tried hard to find words, but it soon dissolved into nothing but pleasure, all thoughts vanishing into thin air when Peter rolled his hips down on his again and again. 

Wade was embarrassed by himself when he moaned into Peter’s mouth, feeling completely on the wrong end of all the attention when Peter’s hands roamed over his arms, stroking his shoulders and down his chest and lower until they settled on Wade’s hips. There was no mistaking the way he held on possessively. 

It became overwhelming soon and Wade hurried to slip out under Peter, turning him onto his stomach to kiss down his back. He wondered if it was too much to turn off the light on the bedside table, but then again Peter wouldn’t see him if Wade stayed behind him for the rest of the night.   
No matter how much Wade wanted him, he just couldn’t bear Peter’s eyes on him throughout the night. And he still doubted that Peter knew what he was getting into, that he wouldn't just lose interest after watching Wade for too long, noticing his flaws more.  
No, Wade wouldn't take that risk. He wanted to make Peter feel good, no need to spook him with his disgusting face just when things got heated between them. 

He reached into the bedside drawer, of course finding a small bottle of lube. Peter helped him out by rummaging in the drawer as well, handing him a condom over his shoulder without another word, Wade blushing furiously. He pulled off Peter's boxers then, spreading his toned legs wide. 

“You sure about this?”   
Wade had to ask, he just had to, waiting patiently for an answer while his hands slid down Peter's back.   
“Yeah, I'm sure,” the younger mumbled into the crook of his arm, his neck blushing deliciously. Wade kissed the heated skin, his own heart pounding almost painfully hard with nerves. He slicked up his fingers then, making sure to distract Peter with more kisses and very gentle bites all over his back when he pushed the first one in slowly. 

He opened up so well, a litany of curses, needy whines and loud moans spilling from his lips by the time Wade had two lubed up fingers inside him, perfectly angled into his prostate causing Peter to shiver. Ignoring his begging for more, Wade pushed in another finger, stretching Peter thoroughly before he even moved to grab the condom.   
By the time he was getting ready, Wade could barely touch himself because he was too turned on. Since he didn't want this all to be over before it began, he squeezed himself roughly, gritting his teeth and forcing his pulse down.

“Wade, please!” Peter sobbed, squirming in front of him, trying to get up onto his knees. Wade reached over and stuffed a pillow underneath Peter's hips, the younger groaning as his hips stuttered into the soft material automatically.   
“Relax, I gotcha ...” Wade rasped, his own breath hitching just like Peter's as he finally slid inside him. He bottomed out quickly, listening carefully to each of Peter's sounds, ready to stop this at a moment's notice when the younger was too uncomfortable.  
His shoulders were tense, muscles trembling and the skin on the back of his neck and forearms breaking out in goosebumps. After a few shallow breaths, Peter's hand wandered over the sheets to where Wade was holding himself up, wrapping around his wrist to hold on tight. 

“Wade … I'm okay .. please, please move,” he whispered urgently, hands shaking, one on Wade's wrist, the other twisted in the sheets. 

It was unbearably hard not to let go, but he wanted to do this right. For once in his damn life he wanted to at least try and not fail miserably.  
He grit his teeth, rolling his hips evenly and gently prompting Peter to do the same when the younger began writing under him. Wade held onto Peter's hips with one hand, the other on the small of his back, and pulled him down over and over again.  
They eventually fell into a rhythm, minutes rolling by filled with both their moans and sighs of pleasure, sweat glistening on Peter's flawless back, highlighting the strong lines of his muscles. Wade learned that Peter was equally impatient in bed as he himself, was, which only made it harder to hold back.

Growling, Wade sat up quickly and pulled Peter with him, thrusting in deep and smirking when Peter probably woke the whole house with his loud moans. He leaned over his lithe body and laid into him then, chasing his orgasm and seemingly finally giving Peter what he wanted, judging by his desperate pleas, voice breaking as he cried out Wade's name, shaking underneath him.   
Watching him shake apart, Wade indulged himself for just a little, pumping his hips hard and taking full advantage of Peter's flexibility as he pushed his thighs apart wide, making him choke on his gasps with each stroke against his oversensitive prostate.   
Wade pressed his lips into Peter's shoulder to keep from shouting his name, coming harder than he could remember having during the past years. 

Peter hissed softly when Wade pulled out, turning his hand to interlock their fingers, Wade laying on top of him heavily, kissing all over his shoulders and neck. After the last trembles had subsided, Wade rolled over, not wanting to fall asleep on Peter like a sack of rice.

“Holy fuck, that was good,” Wade muttered, panting into the otherwise quiet room. He heard Peter shoot a web at the window to open it, let in some fresh air, and the breeze made both of them shiver when it hit their sweaty skin.  
One hand still on Peter's back, Wade couldn't believe how lucky he was. Of course he'd fantasized about maybe scoring a one night stand with Peter, but this was so much more, so intense and perfect.  
“Yeah, so much better than I could've imagined,” he sighed blissfully, but Wade only registered the words after a few long seconds ticked by. He looked over, hairless brows drawn together.  
“Wait, you’ve done this before, right?”  
“No?”  
Wade sat up, startled, and his fingers stilled on Peter's hip.  
“Are you fucking serious? I’m … good lord, I just … we … what?! We just fucked!”  
“Uh, yeah, I sure hope we did.”  
“Oh god, why do you vine me now?!” Wade complained, dropping his head to Peter’s shoulder, kissing the spot where he'd gotten wounded only a few days prior. The younger man laughed, a sated, happy sound, and Wade wondered why he was the one embarrassed about what they'd just done when Peter was such a gleeful boneless puddle on the bed.   
“Shit, I'm so sorry, I … god, are you okay?”  
“Yes, don't worry. Come back,” Peter insisted, still giggling, and patted the pillow next to his head.   
“I just … Petey, you just did … with _me_ of all people!”

Peter groaned, finally fed up with Wade's squirming. He reached out and pulled the other down onto the bed, shimmying closer to snuggle into his chest.“Wade, of course I wanted to do this with you. I wouldn't have wanted this with anybody else … only you.”  
Overwhelmed by the turmoil of feelings making him dizzy, Wade just wrapped both arms around Peter, holding him like this could all just be a dream, the younger vanishing any moment now.   
“But, like, you’ve, uh …”  
“I’ve had sex before, yeah. I’m not that big of a nerd,” Peter laughed and sounded so relaxed, completely contrary to Wade’s nerves currently making his hands tremble.   
“But not with a guy, right?”  
“No,” Peter replied quietly and looked up with a smirk that was just too damn sexy for Wade’s poor heart to take. “You were my first, I guess.”

Wade could only stare, not a single word left in his normally overly loud brain. He found that he didn't have to say anything anymore because Peter effectively occupied his lips with another searing kiss. 

 

They woke up around noon the other day, the noise of people chatting, shouting at each other, dogs barking and cars honking pulling them from their heavy sleep. Wade was the first to get up, urging Peter to stay in bed and rest some more. 

“What are you making?” Peter asked, smelling something sweet and delicious after Wade had been in the kitchen for about ten minutes.   
“Pancakes for my man!”   
Peter laughed, envisioning Wade in a frilly pink apron. Maybe he was even wearing one this very moment, but Peter was too comfortable and too worn out to get up, so he just rolled over. He slid both hands under the pillow, resting his head on it again and smiling when the sun fell through the window onto his naked back. 

Wade started singing along to an old song coming out of the radio Peter had on top of his kitchen cupboard that he didn’t know was even still working. He grinned into the pillow, concluding that this must have been the best morning of his life. 

 

They fell into a comfortably new rhythm, both their lives coming together like they'd always meant to be. During the day, Peter would be studying, following his courses diligently, while Wade hung out at his place or followed up on his jobs.  
Every other night Wade would drag Peter out into the city to have some fun, get his mind of the message boards still knowing no other topic than Spiderman – the hero turned most wanted.   
Some nights they would have plans, but other nights they just strolled around the city. Most of their walks ended up in central park, where they stopped at a different bench each night and just cuddled and talked. Wade couldn't remember ever speaking so much, and so openly with anyone, and he absolutely loved it.   
He got to know more about Peter's family, about how his uncle died and his motivation to become a hero. Sure he’s heard the odd remark or drawn his own conclusions, but hearing Peter talk about his memories was different. 

Peter on the other hand learned that Wade loved to cook when he had the peace of mind for it, and that despite the chaos around him, he was a neat freak when it came to his weapons collection. His swords were never unpolished and no matter how tired he was he would make sure to tend to his gear before falling asleep after his jobs. 

And Wade really tried to take things slow as to not fuck it all up, but it was hard when Peter lured him back upstairs whenever they returned to his place in the early morning hours.  
Whenever Peter didn't have courses to attend to, they'd indulge and spend whole days in bed, lounging, laughing, loving each other until nightfall. 

 

One of those lazy days that Wade found himself loving more than probably the entire past ten years of his life, the Merc spotted something on a news site as he was preparing a snack for them. He'd taken Peter's tablet computer to the kitchen to listen to some music, and the younger had set up a split screen of several news sites as a default screen because he was just such a lovable nerdy man. 

“Babe, look,” Wade said, carrying the tablet over to the bedroom to reveal a news broadcast. There were several fires that had broken out throughout the city overnight, a split screen showing all the different spots.   
“Authorities still haven't been able to find out what caused these fires, and as of right now none of them has been put out. The strain on the fire department's personnel is so great that there have been five cases of serious physical injury and unfortunately two deaths.”  
“That doesn't seem like any normal fire,” Wade said, slowly sinking down onto the mattress as Peter sat up, pushing one of his science books off his lap.   
He took a closer look at the screen, shaking his head eventually.   
“It’s not. Someone’s behind this. Why are there no other heroes around?”  
“Dunno. I think the Avengers got some super-secret whatever thing in their shiny new training centre. Guess they don’t think a fire is worth coming back home.”  
“Or they think the city is still safe enough?”  
“Suits them, just giving off responsibility whenever they wanna,” Wade spat, fully intending to do the same, pouting when Peter jumped up. He hurried over to his closet and pulled out a cardboard box from the very bottom that contained his suit.   
“Get dressed.”  
“Ugh, nooooo! Petey, we don’t have to go,” Wade mentioned, already pushing the news site away to browse the internet again. Peter almost slapped the tablet out of his hands but decided to mildly take it away and place it onto the bed.   
“And ignore that there are people dying already?”  
“They don’t want us there.”  
“But they need us. The Avengers probably count on all the non-members and mutants in town to deal with the issue.”  
“A ballsy move to leave it to the underdogs.”  
“They need us,” Peter repeated, pulling Wade off the bed gently.   
“Peteyyy, come oooon.”  
“There won’t be any more deaths because we’re sulking. Suit up.”  
“But I don’t wanna!” Wade complained, sounding very much like a child when Peter threw him his costume. He only had one weapon’s belt and his precious katanas stashed at Peter’s place, but it would suffice to fight.   
“Suit up,” the younger just repeated, pulling off his shirt and quickly letting his pants follow.   
“I’d know of better things we could do without clothes.”  
“Later. Suit up.”  
“Is that a promise?”   
“Only if I see you in your gear in 5 – 4 – 3 – “  
Wade’s never been dressed that quickly. 

They were at the site in less than two minutes, rows of fire trucks and a huge plume of smoke leading the way.   
“What's going on?” Peter asked as he landed on top of a fire truck. The fire fighter, just about to put his helmet on and get onto the ladder, watched him suspiciously for a moment, maybe contemplating whether or not he should just tell him off. But Wade noticed that the man – all of the humans around, actually – looked sweaty and pale, like he'd been working too long and too hard already.   
“We've got no idea,” he eventually said, wiping his face with the back of his glove before putting his helmet on. “There's something inside this building over there that just keeps the fire going, and from there it spreads all around. It just won't stop.”  
Both of them followed the outstretched hand of the man until they saw a block surrounded by smoke, flames breaking out of the burst windows in even intervals only to lurch onto another building nearby.   
“Are all the buildings evacuated?” Wade asked, already scoping out the area to try and get an overview of what they could work with.   
“Yes, all of them, as far as we can tell. There's always the possibility of people in there, though, like the ones who can't hear, or are unconscious from the smoke, or simply too scared to move.”  
Wade nodded, gazing over the buildings and eventually patting a cautious hand over the firefighter's shoulder.   
“Take a break, man, we're looking into this now.”  
“Yeah … yeah …” he just mumbled, looking ready to drop, and Wade felt sorry for those humans doing all the work, while none of the other mutants and heroes around lifted a finger. It was times like these that reminded him why he didn’t like working with other heroes anymore.   
Well, except for his Petey.   
“I’ll take a look from above, see if we can get in there.”  
“Be careful with your webs, everything that’s remotely flammable takes those flames. I’ve never seen anything like this,” the firefighter advised, leaning on the side of the truck and wiping at his sweaty face.   
“Got it, thanks. Deadpool, need a lift?”  
“Nah, Imma be runnin. See ya in there, I guess,” Wade said, throwing Spidey a flying kiss. 

So they went their separate ways, each using their own special talents to scope the situation. Wade actually found a few people stumbling through the thick smoke, and ended up pushing them into the direction of the firefighter's truck, barely visible anymore even though they were a block away at best. 

“There's still civilians in here, this is insane! Can you see where the fire's coming from? I can't see shit down here!” Wade said into his communicator, his voice metallic in Peter's ear.   
“Visibility is manageable up here, where are you?!”   
Peter squinted but could make out a blurry red dot in the middle of the chaos, Wade shooting reflecting the light of the flames around on one of his swords. “Good, go straight ahead, it's coming from the insurance company over there!” Peter explained, shooting a web right at the overly large company name spanning the entire top floor. 

As he got closer, he spotted something on the few intact windows and a cold shock ran up his back. It was the same rune they’d encountered before. 

“It’s him!” Peter suddenly yelled, swinging high up over the burning building to look for any kind of opening they could use. “It’s the same demon-guy from a few weeks ago!”  
“This fucking bitch!” Wade replied into his communicator, and Peter saw back on his feet already, running towards the epicentre of the fires. “Is there any way to get in?”   
“Haven’t found anything down there, it seems like the fire has a mind of its own!”  
“This is some next level shit, what do we do?! We need Strange or somebody who knows their demon stuff!”  
“Don't you know demon stuff?”  
“All I ever did was fuck one!”  
“Thanks for your contribution,” Peter deadpanned as he landed next to Wade on the ground.   
“Are you jealous?” the Merc cooed, sliding up to Peter and running a hand down his lower back. Peter slipped out of reach before Wade could grope him, but Wade could see the smile under his mask.   
“Focus.”  
“I always do. I'm like, Ariana Grande levels of focused.”  
“We have to find him in there and stop him from whatever it is he’s doing. The fires won’t go down unless he stops.”  
“Got it. Try and find out a way from up top, I’ll look down here,” Wade proposed, sheathing his swords and adjusting his gloves to fully cover his wrists. He wasn’t too worried about burning, but if he had to fight with his wrist dangling by only a burnt piece of flesh it’d be a bit problematic.  
Peter webbed himself up high, dodging flames bursting out towards him as he swung around the building. It seemed like the fire was out to get him and there was a knot forming in Wade’s stomach as he saw this. He shook off his fear for Peter and hurried to find a way into the house.   
_He’s not some damsel in distress, he’s gonna be fine._  
(Well, he doesn’t have a healing factor.)  
[And we are dealing with what looks like Satan moving into his new penthouse.]  
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Wade shouted to his voices, his hands getting fidgety and heart beating faster. 

By now some of the firefighters had returned to their work, at least trying to protect the surrounding area from the flaming debris crashing down and spreading the fire.   
“Nothing on the west and south side, anything down there?”  
“I wanna make a dick joke so bad! But no!” Wade replied and heard Peter laugh. It was sweet enough to distract Wade from the searing pain in his palms as he attempted to open a door, the metal handles piping hot and melting under his touch.   
“Nothing to joke about as far as I know, babe!”  
“Don’t you dare gimme a boner in this unforgiving spandex!”   
“Sorry! Can you take a look from further up?” Peter asked just as Wade was climbing the elaborately designed railing on the outside of a hotel terrace to get to the second floor. 

“On it!”  
Wade looked around and set off running a second later, spotting a firetruck slowly rolling in, ladder already poised to settle to one of the buildings. Maybe they'd heard people in there, but Wade couldn't check on that right now, hoping the humans would figure it out.   
He got to full speed and jumped off the terrace, landing on the firetruck's ladder and running up the steep incline to get on top of a billboard. 

There was barely enough space to stand, but Wade managed to balance himself, dark smoke and glowing embers engulfing him, making it hard to see. There was a roar all of a sudden, the sound getting very loud very quickly, and Wade could just barely dodge a fireball smashing into the wall next to him.   
There was no doubt in Wade's eyes that it had been shot on purpose, and he crouched as best as he could, spotting a window frame glow before another projectile came his way.

“Spidey, looks like the fire’s coming from three floors down from you!” Wade yelled into the communicator, cursing when his right arm got engulfed in flames because this time he wasn't fast enough.   
“Copy!” he heard and saw Peter fly by the moment he'd patted off his scorched skin. The main entrance to the building more or less exploded then, sending the double doors flying through the air. Wade jumped out of their way and gazed up to find Peter dodging pieces of furniture in a similar fashion.  
“The only way's through the window, beam me up, Scotty!”   
“All the windows on his floor are still intact, we'd have to break one.”  
“Can do!” Wade promised, reloading his guns just in time for Peter to shoot a web at his back and haul him. up. He yelped, his stomach swooping dangerously.  
“Jesus, fuck, warn a guy,” he grumbled when they landed on a roof opposite the building. Peter had the audacity to giggle and it was too cute for Wade to be mad at him.   
“I thought you were used to it by now.”  
“I'll never get used to you, babe.”  
Peter giggled when Wade leaned over and gave him a loudly smacking kiss, mask and all.   
“You ready?” he asked and held onto Wade’s waist. The Merc got out a gun and made sure it was loaded.   
“Yup. Let’s get wet first,” Wade prompted with a wink and nodded his head toward one of the firetrucks currently extending it’s ladder up a nearby building. Peter understood and pulled them over the edge of the roof, Wade clenching his teeth. He still didn’t get how in the world Peter could just nonchalantly drop down like that. They swung low enough to cross paths with one of the hoses, drenching them with ice cold water within seconds.   
“I imagined this way sexier!” Wade complained, trying to breathe through the soaked mask but only managing a helpless sputter.   
“Look up!”  
Wade blinked the water out of his eyes and tried to aim as straight as possible at the window in front of him. His bullet hit the mark without fail, leaving Wade satisfied as always, if only for a brief moment. 

He pulled Peter back by the neckline of his costume, so that he was the first to crash through the window, catching most of the fall and the glass raining to the floor. Some shards stuck in his back but Wade ignored them, pulling Peter up by his side as they stood in the sweltering heat inside the building.   
The only place that wasn’t engulfed by flames was a small circle in the middle of the room where a thin creature sat cross legged. The person, at least Wade hoped it was human, wore a dark hoodie that had already begun to scorch, smoke rising up here and there.  
“Stop this! Stop!” Peter shouted at him but to no avail.   
“He’s saying something, it’s gotta be where the fire’s coming from!” Wade hollered back over the roar of the flames and bursting pipes all around.   
“He has to shut up!” 

That seemed to trigger him somehow, because the creature looked up, revealing dark, sunken eyes and protruding hip bones. 

**“You shut up! All of you! The whole city will lay silent when I’m done with you! Feel the wrath of the Inferno!”** he threatened with a voice like fingernails raking over a blackboard.   
“That’s too much crazy for me – Ey, Skeletor, cut that shit out, wouldya? It’s gett’n too hot in here and I really don’t wanna take my clothes off!”  
A white and blue flame came flying at them and Wade rolled to the floor, cursing as he went right through a burning pile of paper. Peter had jumped up to cling to the ceiling, quickly hissing and falling back down because even the walls were flaming hot at that rate.   
Wade wanted to say something, warn Peter or get him to leave the building again, but they found themselves bombarded with burning furniture and more fire. Within seconds Wade was sweating through his costume, which was already melting into his skin whenever something had hit him. 

A desk flew past him all of a sudden and there was a terrible blunt noise as it hit Peter, catapulting him out the nearest window.   
“Spidey!”  
The moment Wade turned to help him, he was hit as well.

Wade screamed in pain when something hit him in the back, piercing right through his body to ram into the floor, spearing him. He hung upside down, the world around him spinning as he drifted in and out of consciousness.  
He woke up by crashing into the floor, Peter shouting at him over the roar of the flames. A heavy steel rod fell down next to Wade, the deep red blood on it reflecting the fire.  
He couldn’t tell how much time had passed, was still confused when Peter helped him get back on his feet, but behind their enemy Wade could see the neighboring building completely ablaze, thick plumes of black smoke rising up. 

The man was still mumbling, now beginning to sway back and forth, and Wade saw no other chance to end this before the entire block turned into ashes. 

“Get ready to web him up!” Wade yelled, dashing forward and pulling his left glove off as he went. He couldn’t wait for Peter to get back up, but heard him shuffle to his feet just fine.   
Just as Wade got close enough, the guy opened his mouth again, exposing a set of brown and black teeth stumps. As gross as it was to see, Wade lurched toward him and punched his entire hand into it.   
Teeth shattered around his fingers, sharp edges cutting into his skin. Wade could feel his ring and pinky finger breaking from the impact, but didn’t react to it, only reached for his katana with his right hand and cut off his left hand in one swift move.   
It hurt like a bitch, but for once the guy shut up. He reached up in shock, wanting to free his mouth, but Peter webbed it shut, tying his hands in the process. 

“Hurry!” Peter shouted, the fires still going all around them. Wade followed him to the middle of the room, his fingers almost touching each other when he wrapped a hand around the upper arm of the still unknown man.   
“Let's get him to the Sanctum,” Peter suggested, already moving to a window to shoot a web outside. Wade knew he would wait for them and either web them or carry them both out to a safe spot.   
The moment Wade looked into the man's eyes he realized this was far from over. A spark lit up his otherwise dead eyes and there was a metallic sound right next to them. It was only now that the fires went down enough for Wade to spot a few gas tanks sitting in the corner of the room. One of them had just lost it's cap, the fluid inside threatening to drip onto the floor where the carpet still smoldered. 

“Spidey, get out!” Wade yelled, panic rushing through him. Peter followed his line of sight and the next thing Wade knew was that they were both flying across the neighboring building, an explosion shattering windows all around. 

 

“Is he dead?”   
“No! Leave him alone! Get away!”  
Wade groaned when Peter's distressed voice came back to him, finally louder than the ringing in his ears. Someone touched his shoulder, and somehow he knew it wasn't Peter, and jerked away as much as he could.   
“Ah, he's alive.”  
“Leave him!”   
“Okay, okay, sorry. Are you alright?”  
“Mostly, yeah. Wa- Deadpool? Can you get up?”  
Groaning louder, Wade managed to open his eyes and blink up at the sky. It was getting dark, but the smoke from all the fires made it worse. The air was thick and left a nasty taste in his mouth. Or maybe it was all the blood he could feel drying on his face.   
“Yeah, I'm, like, totally fine.”  
“Come on.”  
Peter helped him up and Wade rested his pounding head on his shoulder for a moment, while Peter assured the firemen that they were both alright.   
“Did a great job there … both of you,” one of them said and Wade smiled wryly under the mask. It was a nice sentiment, and a rare occasion that Wade got praised as well, but it wouldn't change their situation.   
“You, too. See ya.”

 

When Wade could move again he stumbled over to one of the fire trucks and ripped off his mask, pouring water over his head directly from the hose and rubbing the dirt and blood off as good as he could. Finally he could breathe again and fumbled his mask back on his wet face, Peter patiently waiting behind him.   
He probably didn't look any better under the mask, but he had more on the line if he exposed his face like that.   
“Let's go home,” Peter said eventually, patting Wade on the back in lieu of a hug or more, and Wade forced himself not to reach for Peter's hand. 

There was no applause, no people cheering, just a few onlookers and the sound of heavy firefighter boots thumping on the wet streets. Wade yawned and stretched, happy to see Peter smile under his mask when he put an arm around him like they were on an awkward date.   
Peter understood the hint and shot a web up to pull them up over the roofs.   
Back home – Wade was surprised to find out he was feeling quite at home in Peter's apartment – they helped each other out of their costumes and showered together. Loving hands caressed bruises, cuts and burn marks carefully, light touches later replaced by gentle kisses. 

 

After a good twelve hours of sleep, enough for both of them to heal mostly, Wade got them breakfast at a bakery around the block. He found Peter at his desk when he returned, still only wearing his boxers because some small burns on his chest and back weren’t fully healed.   
There were some familiar sites opened on his laptop and Wade frowned, carefully setting their pastries down on the kitchen counter.   
“Don't look at this,” Wade said, peering around Peter's shoulder to his computer screen filled with the usual messages on Spiderman.  
“Just checking that nobody saw you without the mask,” he replied evenly, deleting a few pictures after briefly activating one of the programmes he wrote.   
“I got muffins for breakfast. And croissants,” Wade lured, hoping to distract Peter from his search.   
“Uh-huh” he just replied, continuing to tap away at his keyboard. 

Peter knew he was annoying Wade when the older made his way over to the kitchen. But however much he wanted to ignore the public, he couldn't just have Wade's bare face plastered all over those message boards collecting info about the both of them.   
As he entered a particularly infamous site, he heard Wade pull out the waffle iron from it's box on top of the kitchen shelves. Aunt May had gifted it to Peter last Christmas, but because Peter rarely ever used his kitchen, the gadget was still minted. 

He told himself he'd just do a quick check and then shut the browser again, ignoring what was going on just like he'd so successfully done the past days.   
Sifting through text posts and photos, Peter soon went to the forums again to check on them. The moment he spotted a familiar name on the posts, his fingers went ice cold with the shock running through his body. Up until now Peter never paid the conspiracy theorists much mind, let them follow their – mostly wrong – hints and play around with whatever information they thought they'd gathered.   
But this time he saw the name Perrault pop up more and more, a bit later the posts were filled with private information on him and a few press release´pictures and paparazzi snapshots. 

At about three a.m. the previous night, one of the admins had opened another forum with the title “Exposing G. C. Perrault – how Spidey and Deadpool rid the world of a known pedophile”.   
From there, the knowledge seemed to have spread to twitter and within minutes the world knew about Wade's motives and Peter's reasons not to speak up about the murder.  
 _Bet Deadpool got a fad wad of cash for the pig, and tbh I'd double it. Kill all of them child-fuckers, Pool!_ someone wrote followed by about two dozen emojis. 

Of course there were still people hating on them for even killing, but as closer Peter got to the recent hour, the more supportive the messages got. People shared information about Wade's mark, even one victim of his coming through to briefly relay his story and express gratitude to Spiderman and Deadpool. 

“Come look at this!”  
“Stop, I coulda dropped my croissant!”  
“Come over!” Peter insisted, laughing at the old reference all the same. Wade strolled back into the bedroom, frowning.

“Petey, can you please let that go?”  
Peter turned at Wade's desperate plea, surprising him with his smile.   
“No. Look at it.”  
Wade rolled his eyes, trying hard not to work up a fight between them before breakfast. So he leaned on Peter's shoulder a little too heavily to express his aversion. 

“Wait … they figured it out?”  
“Seems like it. A conspiracy group found out about your mark … it might take a while for the media to pick up, but-”  
“Wait!”  
Suddenly Wade ran out of the apartment and down a flight of stairs. He came stumbling back up the stairs noisily in his haste and crumpled a newspaper on the bed. There was a picture of Spiderman on the front page, small, but prompting to a larger article on the inside.   
“Page three,” Peter said, helping Wade find the site.   
And there it was, a report about the fires of the past night, along with a series of photos recording Spiderman jumping out of the window with the culprit, landing hard in the middle of the street but still tackling him to the floor even though his costume was literally smoking.   
There were even screenshots of the message boards discussing the murder incident.   
The headline of the whole thing read “We're sorry, Love you, Spidey!”

“Love you, Spidey.” Wade said and it wasn't only him reading the paper.


End file.
